Delicately Cold Deception
by UnitedStatesOfTheNetherlands
Summary: The distance between insanety and genius is measured only by succes. Rose Adiusto would, never -ever- end up in the insane-category. So she would do the only thing that was remotely acceptable. She would conquer the world. And she would show that blithering fool that called himself 'Voldemort' just how one went about doing that. Then she'd snub him, because then she could.
1. 1- Bunk Beds and Fire

Minerva McGonall took her sweet time noting down the twins' punishment. Maybe she would come up with something new and worse while writing. She certainly hoped so. It had been months since they'd last been caught, and so she would do her best to make their punishment as severe and gruelling as Hogwarts' rules would allow, in hopes of deterring them to ever prank Albus- or her, for that matter- again. The Headmaster had gleefully taken the prank in stride and had thoroughly enjoyed speaking Mandarin for a day. She, however, hadn't been so amused. She had been planning on going through some urgent bills, files and complaints with him- Albus had managed to give her the whole day to discuss these with him, something that seldom happened lately.

But of course Albus couldn't be blamed for only having a few hours free for her every , he was such a busy man that he could hardly be expected to. Being Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump, and Chief Warlock of the Wizardgamot placed a great deal of responsibilities - and tedious tasks - upon his shoulders. Not to mention his underground activity in the Order of the Phoenix, a group dedicated to making sure that he never rose again. And, making sure that he was never forgotten.

No, Minerva blamed the twins for all the complaints, bills and files she'd been forced to deal with herself. It always went twice as fast when Albus was there. But alas, she'd tried to lift the curse for two hours to no avail. She was sure Albus knew how to reverse the pesky thing, but the only thing he'd done was smiling and eating lemon drops. The man was infuriating. Sometimes she wondered if he took his duties seriously… But then she'd remember him tall and powerful, positively blazing with raw power as he battled You-know-who, and she'd feel ashamed. Those were usually the times paperwork seemed to vanish, so fast she went through it.

Minerva glowered, and the twin on the right (she thought it was Fred- wasn't he the tallest of the two?) leaned back slightly.

Good. They should be ashamed.

She dismissed the evil duo, and continued on with the stack of paperwork in front of her.

She would be going to visit the new muggleborns in a few weeks. She knew for certain there was one, but she couldn't remember if there were more. Most students nowadays were half-bloods with only a few pure-bloods and muggleborns thrown into the mix. Minerva frowned lightly as she tried to find a gap in her already overflowing schedule- such things often took half a day, and there were 5 muggleborns. Wait, no, there was one in an orphanage as well; her blood status was marked with a question mark, but since she was living in an orphanage, it had to be either a muggleborn or a half-blood. Minerva groaned silently. Informing a muggleborn of her new status as witch took hours, but informing an orphan took days. The orphan would have to get a funding- that would have to be applied for. To apply for funding, one needed to be registrated in the Ministry. Registration was tedious and time-consuming- It wasn't something Minerva was looking forward to.

Wait, what orphanage was the girl in?

Oh.

That orphanage. Maybe she'd let the Headmaster handle this one. He was familiar with that place after all.

_+_+_T_+_+_

Rose Adiusto.

She'd been surprised when she discovered the name actually had a good ring to it.

She'd already gone and drowned in despair when she discovered the caretakers had left her surname blanco in registration files, which meant they could fill it in with whenever they wanted, with whatever they deemed fitting. But they'd surprised her.

Rose scoffed.

Their name for her was Rose, because of the only thing reminding her of her parents and past. Adiusto was latin for burn, she knew. They'd given her her surname when she became seven. It was just a few days after the accident.

Rose had accidentally burned down the living room, so the orphanage had had to get money from the government for the basic repairs. Something in the government had gone wrong, and they'd accidentally gotten way too much money.

Rose smiled. Those were the days. It had taken her ten long years to build up the right sort of reputation, but it was defenitely worth it.

She'd arrived at Wool's Orphanage ten and then some years ago, left in a craddle in the middle of the night with no form of identification except for a single ring, ornately decorated with one golden gem in the form of a rose in the middle. The staff of the orphanage were used to dealing with these kind of situations and had gone through the usual motions of reporting the nocturnal delivery to the police in the hope that they might be able to track down Rose's parents. The search, however, proved fruitless; there had not been a trace of whoever had abandoned little Rose on that dark, stormy night. So, there being no other place for her, the strange little blue-eyed baby had been taken in and Wool's Orphanage had become her new home.

When Rose had first arrived there, Wool's Orphanage was a long way from being the most well-staffed, or equipped orphanage in London. It had been build over one hundred and fifty years previously, and the tired old house showed many scars from its long years of busy occupation. Its ornade façade was covered in ivy, and the roof clearly had been patched over many times with whatever materials were immediately at hand.

The interior of the building had just too many problems. The water pipes claked and rumbled, the floors were uneven and creaky and it was too big and old to really keep it thoroughly clean, so dust seemed to gather everywhere. The children's dormitories were old-fashioned; each lined with steel-framed bunk beds and served by only one cramped, rusty bathroom for every twenty or thirty children. Many of the older sections had proved

to be too expensive to renovate over the years and so there were what seemed like miles of abandoned, dusty corridors that were rarely, if ever, used by anyone. Somehow Wool's Orphanage had managed to avoid closure over the years, possibly because it was one of the only orphanages left in the area. Nevertheless, the money available to the orphanage had dwindled as the years went by and this had let to the accelerated decline of the grand old building. Indeed, the staff seemed to spend as much time carrying out makeshift repairs as they did looking after the children.

At first Rose seemed to be quite a normal child, with the obvious exception of her unusually coloured eyes, but as she got slightly older, people started to notice that there was something a little bit odd about her. At the age of three she taught herself how to read. She sat on the floor of the common room staring for hours at several of the books that older children had left lying around, her face frozen in a look of intense concentration. The staff had thought this was highly amusing.

"Look at her! She looks just like she's reading," one of the staff would say.

"Oh, she's just copying what the other children do," another would reply. But she wasn't just imitating what she had seen other people do. As she sat staring at the letters on the page it was almost as if her brain just understood them. At first the words had meant nothing to her, but as she stared at the pages their meaning became clearer and clearer to her, like a foggy mirror becoming clear, as if the knowledge was somehow just growing in her head. Not only that, but she also could remember every last word of every page she looked at. It was as though her brain was sucking the knowledge, vampire-like, from the books.

Then there was the time, when she was five, that she had taken Mrs Green's phone apart. It wasn't unusual for the children at Wool's to dismantle things like this, but Rose didn't just take it apart. As she sat surrounded by the scattered components of the phone she could see exactly what each piece was supposed to do and how, when they were fitted back together correctly, their function could be improved. In fact, when she put the phone back together again it worked better that it ever had before. It wasn't until two months later when the next phone bill arrived that Mrs Green realised that none of the calls she had made for the past two months had cost her anything. She had queried this with the phone company who informed her that their systems didn't make mistakes of that kind and she should stop wasting their time claiming that she had made phone calls when she clearly hadn't.

When she was very young, before she started school, Rose spent may hours slowly exploring every nook and cranny of the mysterious old building. She had an uncanny knack for sneaking away unnoticed. She would sit down with the other pre-school children in the common room and appear to join in on their games. Then someone would call the attention of staff away for a moment, or their attention would wander for a few seconds and before they knew it, Rose would have vanished. The first time that this happened, it had triggered a full-scale panic as the staff of the orphanage turned the building upside down searching for her. Not a trace could be found anywhere of the little girl, despite a thorough search of the building and its grounds. Mrs Green had just been about to call the police and officially report her missing when she had toddled back into the common room. She had been missing for several hours and was completely covered from head to toe in dust and grime. When asked where she had been all day she had just given Mrs Green a puzzled look and replied, "Here."

Further questioning had proven useless. Eventually, this became such a common occurrence with Rose that the staff gave up looking for her, knowing that she would eventually reappear, none the worse for her travels and surprised, irritated even, by their concern.

The staff of the orphanage weren't the only people who witnessed Rose's slightly odd behaviour. Just down the street from the orphanage was the library, one of the oldest and largest in London. Like Wool's, it was a grand old Gothic building that dated back hundreds of years, and for Rose it soon felt like a second home. Mrs Green had given up trying to find new books in the orphanage for this strange little girl who read so quickly that it looked as if she was just checking the page numbers. So she would take her down to the library whenever she could where she would be placed in the care of Mr Littleton, the librarian, and a good friend of Mrs Green. Mr Littleton was happy to keep an eye on Rose for her - the little girl was no trouble at all, he told her. She just sat flicking through books all day without a care in the world. Nobody, at least at first, believed that a child of Rose's age could actually be reading and understanding the books at that speed.

But she was, although it wasn't reading as most people understood it. In just the same way as when she learnt to read in the first place, it was as if the knowledge contained within each book she read was leaping straight from the page into her brain. She couldn't explain it, but the more she read, the more she knew and the more she knew, the better her understanding of what she had already read became. And she read literally everything, from Tolkien to Tolstoy, from Sun Tzzu to Sunday Times, often choosing a specific section of the library each day and devouring whole bookcases without pausing. The staff at the library would joke with each other about the odd little girl who just sat on the floor, surrounded by piles of books and papers, pretending to read. Perhaps she's not quite right in her head, they would say to each other, but at least she's safe and happy here. All except Mr Littleton, who, over time, grew to realise that Rose was reading the books, absorbing them, almost. He tried to tell this to his colleagues, but they just declared him crazy. Occasionally, when Mr Littleton happened upon Rose sitting in the aisles, he would stop, pluck a particular book from the shelves and hand it to her.

"Don't miss this one; you've got to read this."

"Thank you, Mr Littleton," Rose would reply each time, smiling at the eldery librarian with that particularly adult expression of her, and adding the book to one of the piles surrounding her.

All of which made traditional schooling rather irrelevant for Rose. The other orphans were normally sent for lessons at the local school, but it quickly became clear that Rose was a little more advanced than her peers. Her reading in the library had covered so many different subjects that by the time she was seven years old she had a better understanding of their subjects than most of her teachers. Her teachers, for their part, had not taken kindly to being repeatedly corrected by a seven-year old and eventually, irrevocably, the headmaster of the school had formally complained to Mrs Green. So she in turn had summoned Rose to her office.

Rose had carefully entered the office. She hadn't known what Mrs Green wanted to talk about, but she had had a rather strong hunch. The incompetent things that called themselves teachers hadn't seemed too happy with her. Poor little things.

She had made sure to keep her face slightly clueless and trusting as she approached the bureau.

Mrs Green had looked up as Rose walked, as though she had been so engrossed in her pressing paperwork too notice her sooner.

Rose had had to suppress the urge to sneer at the sheer stupidity of the slightly fat woman with the too expensive jewellery.

"What am I going to do with you, Rose?" Mrs Green had asked, and Rose had almost applauded her for looking slightly concerned. It was still an obviously fake expression on her Matron, but it was better than last time.

"Why, what's the matter, Mrs Green?" Rose had replied, trying to appear genuinely uncertain as to what it was she was supposed to have done. She wasn't particularly good in acting, but she was good enough to fool oafs like Mrs Green.

"It appears that some of your teacher," Mrs Green had paused and looked down at her papers, "...well, all of your teachers, actually, have been complaining that you're disrupting classes. Is this true?"

Mrs Green had leveled a stern gaze, and Rose had almost snorted.

"Well, if you call exposing their woeful incompetence disruptive, then yes, I suppose I have."

Rose had stared right back at Mrs Green. Her Matron had looked away, slightly nervous, and had wetted her lips. Rose had cringed slightly with disgust and tried not to think about the slimy lips that were talking to her.

"Rose, you're seven years old, you aren't qualified to say whether or not you teachers are doing a good job. None of the other children have the problems you have." she continued. Over the years Mrs Green had become increasingly used to the way Rose talked; clever, but rude, and she could see how it could drive her teacher mad.

"I'm not like the other children, you know that. They just take so long to understand everything that I get bored waiting. It's not my fault I'm smarter than them." Rose had replied matter of factly, "I've already learnt everything that's being covered in class and I'm starting to wonder if I should even be there. She had crossed her arms defiantly. If everything went well, Mrs Green should start worrying about her reputation

"Don't be silly, dear. Your education isn't something you can just ignore, Rose. What are you going to do when you leave here, and you don't have any qualifications?" Mrs Green had looked as though she couldn't quite believe she was having this conversation with a seven year old, and Rose had outrightly sneered then.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something, Mrs Green." Even back there, Rose had already known she didn't have to worry about silly things like qualifications and exams. They were for normal children, and she was already quite aware she was far from normal.

"So what do you suggest we do, then?" Mrs Green had asked, and Rose had known Mrs Green had been hoping for an useful answer, since she was struggling to come up with an idea herself. If Rose's misbehaviour continued, she would be excluded from school, and that would raise questionsabout Mrs Green's own care for children.

"You could be my teacher." Rose had stated bluntly, and had expectantly waited for the derisive laughter and belittling response that would no doubt follow. She was, after all, a child, and Mrs Green was an adult. Her Matron shouldn't be bothered with teaching children.

Ah, there it was. The condescending smile. Stupid adults.

"It's been a long time since I taught anyone, and if your teachers at school aren't good enough, what good would I be?"

"Oh, I'm not suggesting you would . actually try to teach me. I agree, that would be totally pointless." Rose replied airily. "No, better just to say that you're going to give me private tuition at the orphanage, in order to keep up appearances."

Mrs Green looked confused, and Rose almost rolled her eyes, but managed to refrain from that. It probably wouldn't help.

"Who would teach you then?"

"I would," Rose had stated as calmly and reassuringly as she could. "Most of the teachers at school are just reading the textbooks out loud. I can do that myself, and a whole lot faster than they can. You would just say that you're giving me private lessons. Nobody ever needs to know otherwise." She had smiled smugly at the clear outline she'd provided Mrs Green with. Mrs Green was a pushover. The way to get things done quickly and without any complications was to just pierce through with insults, belittlement, and money. However weird that sounded, Rose knew it was the truth. Her Matron would just need the final push now.

Rose carefully eyed Mrs Green. Yes, she was considering the suggestion. After all, her suggestion did make kind of sense, even if it wasn't strictly honest. It was clear to anyone that met Rose rthat she didn't want or needed a traditional education, and at least this way there wouldn't be any awkward questions asked about her orphanage. In fact, being seen as the teacher of an apparent child genius would do her reputation no harm at all.

"Let's just say that we went with your plan. You'd have to tell everyone that I was giving you lessons, and only you and I would know the truth."

Rose smiled.

"It would be our little secret, Mrs Green. Besides, I imagine there's some sort of grant paid to people who provide a first-class education to a girl like me. Quite a substantial grant, several thousands pounds a year, I should think, at least…"

A switch seemed to flick in Mrs Green's brain. There was a brief look of calculation on her face as she struggled in vain to supress a smile.

It wasn't just books or machines that Rose could understand. It was people, too. When she talked to someone, she could understand precisely what made them thick and what to say to get exactly what she wanted. In Mrs Green's case it was surprisingly easy- pride, greed, and the need to come over as smart- the three best instincts to appeal to when trying to manipulate anyone. Machiavelli had taught her that one.

"Oh, I'm sure it wouldn't be that much." Her face had betrayed the fact that she appeared to know otherwise. "Let me make some enquiries. I can't promise anything but it might be worth looking into the possibility, at least.

"I do hope it's possible," Rose had replied. "I just think it would be so much better for everyone."

_+_+_T_+_+_

It came as no surprise for Rose that the new arrangements for her education by Mrs Green were subsequently made with almost indecent haste. She also noticed that her clothes suddenly seemed more expensive, and she occasionally caught a glimpse of some new piece of jewellery glittering on her wrist or at her throat. Clearly she was a profitable student. She didn't mind Mrs Green spending the money on herself - indeed, if it meant that she was as eager as herself to keep the details of their 'arrangement' to herself so much the better.

And so it was that for the next three years Rose was free to do as she pleased. She had meant what she said when she'd spoken to Mrs Green - she really did plan to educate herself. And over the following months she set about that task with a vengeance. She continued to read anything she could get her hands on, and started to experiment with building more and more complex devices and machines of her own design, testing the limits of her knowledge. Every time she encountered a problem she didn't understand she would find the answer or study the theory that might lead to an answer As her experiments grew more complicated she soon found that she needed a larger private space where she could work in seclusion, and had set about converting the orphanage's cavernous attic space to that end. The narrow flight of stairs that led up to the roof space was tucked away in one corner of the top floor of the building and she was fairly sure, judging by the state of the room, that no one had been up there for years. It suited her purposes perfectly and she spent several weeks clearing out the junk that had accumulated in this abandoned space over the years, preparing the attic for her use. She had even decorated the room after a fashion. She wasn't sure what had made her put the desk and large leather chair at one end of the room but, like the map of the world that hung on the wall above them, they just seemed right somehow.

In tandem with her ongoing studies she had also started to build up stronger relationships with the other children in Wool's. Or at least the ones she deemed useful. Many of the others, even those a few years older than Rose, seemed to regard her as some sort of leader for reasons that Rose didn't quite understand at first. The children, for their part, reasoned that here was a girl, who apparently didn't have to go to school, who seemed in fact to be able to do exactly as she pleased whenever she wanted and whom Mrs Green seemed strangely reluctant to criticise. Her example seemed to them to be an excellent one to follow.

Wool's Orphanage had continued to fall into disrepair. There were even some sections of the building that had now crossed the line from being a bit battered and rickety to actually becoming genuinely unsafe. Rose was determined that she would try to arrest this process and had set about a new project of restoring as much of the building as possible to its former glory. It wasn't that she rolled up her sleeves and got on with the repairs herself, which seemed to her to be dangerously close to hard work. Instead she employed the services of companies from all over London, which seemed all too eager to believe that the BBC was making a programme about the renovation of the building and understandably provided their services free of charge for such a worthy cause. This new show, Please, Think of the Children, was, of course, a complete fabrication on Rose's part, but she had discovered that one could work wonders with a big lie, some headed notepaper, and an anonymous PO box address. The donations from companies did not stop at repair work, though. Over the next few months the orphanage received free books, DVD's, game consoles, TV's, stereo's, sport equipment, and a host of other well-meaning donations. Rose was not interested in keeping any of these things for herself - she knew that if she could keep the other children at Wool's happy, then she wouldn't have to worry about them sticking their noses too far into her business or drawing inspectors to the orphanage with tales of inadequate facilities or poor treatment.

This was her orphanage now. And there wouldn't be anyone shutting it down.

_+_+_T_+_+_

_So, I reviewed this chapter What do ya think?_

_Thanks for reading!_

_Sofie_


	2. 2- Raspberry Tea and Napoleon Tangles

Raspberry Tea and Napoleon Tangles

Dumbledore sighed, leaning back in his chair as a hand came up to adjust half-moon spectacles. Minerva had sent him a list of all the potential new students awaiting their letters- normally it didn't fall to him to send the actual letters, he just signed off on all names. He had this slight hunch that she was slightly mad at him for not breaking the mandarin curse last weekend.

Dumbledore paused adjusting his glasses for a moment as he silently laughed, laughs that came out more like wheezes. He was getting old.

He hadn't informed her that he had, in fact, been unable to lift the curse. A simple 'Finite Incantatem' would have sufficed, but Finite Incatatem was a spell in the old Latin tongue. Which wasn't Mandarin, and therefore, out of reach.

His glasses fell out of his hands, on the enormous pile of paperwork in front of him. Albus eyed the stack carefully.

Maybe he would need a twist of his time-turner today. He preferred not to use it, but it simply wasn't probable that he'd get this all done at the end of the day. Tabby came everyday on eleven PM to force him to bed. He probably wouldn't be done by eleven.

Best get to it, then.

He bent over the list, a twinkling in his blue eyes as he perused the names. Well, well, there were certainly a few familiar names attending this year. A new generation, sons and daughters of white and dark wizards alike, and a few muggleborns. Six, to be precise. More than was normal, but not out of the ordinary. Minerva had scribbled a few notes beside their bios, remarking when she would be dropping by to give the news.

Except for one girl.

The name was something of a shock and Dumbledore found himself chuckling for the second time that day. It seemed Merlin would come to Hogwarts for the second time. Minerva had written next to it, in her neat curly script;

I thought you might handle this one

Ah, Wool's Orphanage Not a place he was likely to ever forget. Albus stroked his beard, thoughtful. The fact that there was a second magical person to appear there, and this one with a name like that…

Albus didn't believe in coincidences. But he did believe in destiny and fate. He had the feeling this girl would be interesting.

While he understood Minerva's reasoning for appointing the girl to him -he was the reason she'd wasted a whole day, after all- he just couldn't find the time to help an orphan. He would need to take her to the Ministry of Magic, registrate her thrice, and help her shopping, no to mentio the hours of explanation that came with it. He certainly didn't have the time. Minerva wouldn't have the time either. She had other muggle-borns to visit, complaints to answer to, letters to sent out, files to read, not to mention her role as a teacher.

Albus paused again, a list of possible candidates swimming for his eyes. Normally he would sent Hagrid, but this girl lived in the middle of London. The Statue of Secrecy would be all over him. Instinctively he would sent Filius, but he knew the half-dwarf had never fared well in the middle of cities. And although Sinistra was a sweetheart, she a task like this really didn't suit her. Trelawney and Binns were not even considered. So then, it fell to the man with the least duties at the moment.

In a single fluid motion, Albus got to his feet and crossed to his fireplace. Okay, so maybe the motion wasn't completely smooth, but that could hardly be expected from a man his age, even if he was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

"Severus! I need a favour!"

_+_+_T_+_+_

Convincing Severus had taken every ounce of his not inconsiderable ability. Albus resisted the urge to spare his colleague a glace as they strode towards Hogsmeade- the closest apparition point. He knew Severus was probably the least apt for this job. Unapproachability and sarcasm weren't qualities suited for this task. He just hoped the girl had a though skin.

Severus shook him out of his thoughts by clearing his throat and shooting him a thin glare.

"And where," the Potions Master asked, not trying to hide the displeasure in his voice, "are we expecting to find this… girl."

Albus withdrew a bag of napoleons from his pocket. The brilliant coloured muggle candy was something he had recently become obsessed with. "Wool's Orphanage," he replied, as he threw a lemon-flavoured napoleon into his mouth- or tried to. The bright-yellow candy, however, refused to go into his mouth, and chose instead to end up in his beard. There was a moment of silence, as Albus tried to remove the sticky yellow candy from his beard, but only managed to tangle it in his beard more.

The silence only lasted about a moment, though. Severus had gotten impatient quickly enough.

"Are you being purposefully vague?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he looked up for a moment. "I don't believe I have any idea what you are referring to, Severus. And one would think I should know, eh?" His attention quickly strayed back to his beard, where the situation had gotten dire.

"Not once have you given me the girl's name." Severus lifted an eyebrow, his lip curling. "you waited until now to tell me our destination. Might I expect the revelation that she is some ancestor of Slytherin as well, or do you take pride in keeping everyone around you completely ignorant?"

His question, however, fell to deaf ears. Albus was quite occupied trying to remove the pesky muggle Napoleon from the giant tangle, where it resided. The Napoleon was stuck just beneath Albus' chin, and so the Heasmaster couldn't see what he was doing without bending his head far backwards, and lifting his beard a bit. So he tried to untangle the irritating yellow thing with one hand, while using the other to keep his beard in his sight, which failed rather spectacularly.

See, the road to Hogsmeade was a bumpy one. It wasn't an uncommon sight on Hogsmeade weekend to see two students supporting another one with a sprained ankle. So it wasn't so surprising -for Severus, at least- when the old man bumped his right foot against a tree root, and lost his balance. His beard, arms and legs flailed everywhere, with a look of complete and utter shock pasted on his face.

Sadly enough, he remained upright. The Napoleon, though, had now settled firmly in the middle of the Headmaster's beard, rather resembling an egg in the middle of a rather messy bird nest.

Albus fiddled with the Napoleon for five more seconds before he lost his patience and whipped out his wand. He removed the skittle -and several chunks of hair, to his despair- and continued on as if nothing had happened, keeping his eyes straight forward, not once glancing at Severus for the rest of the walk.

_+_+_T_+_+_

A pop was the only sound the two men made as they appeared on the abandoned alleyway, a street down from the orphanage. Albus, fully intent on striding into the street in his midnight blue robes, paused when Severus cleared his throat meaningfully. The old Headmaster glanced back, seeing that his colleague haf already transformed his billowing black robes into a black waistcoat and black trousers.

"Ah, of course," he mumbled, and waved his hand over his wardrobe- although he kept his suitcase as it was- as Severus rolled his eyes, the sneer that had been strangely absent firmly molded back in place.

While the world around it had changed substantially, Wool's Orphanage had remained a picture of the past. The stone building loomed over the street in the same imposing manner it had fifty years before, and, although obviously in better shape than it had been, still looked unfavourable to live in. Someone had attempted to make it look more approachable by adding flowerbeds along the front garden, but didn't quite succeed.

While Albus was somewhat curious about what the potions master thought of the place- Severus only knew it from the stories- Albus didn't glance back. He wasn't in the right mood to talk to Severus right now. He could ask later. Thoughts of the girl they were about to meet filled his thoughts. He hoped she wasn't too frail.

He stepped up to the door, and ran the buzzer to the antercum (or antercom? Maybe it was intercam? He wasn't sure how muggles called it nowadays).

There was silence for a moment, then a young female's voice said; "Hello, welcome to Wool's Orphanage. Do you have an appointment?"

Albus smiled- apparently he still knew his way around muggle inventions- and put his fingers on the reply button. "Could you tell the Matron Albus Dumbledore is here?" He clicked it off.

"Did you sent the, a letter ahead of time?" Severus asked from behind him. The man sounded highly sceptical- and for good reasons.

"While I have managed to figure out how to work this…" Albus made a general gesture to the silver machine-thingy, " buzzer, I am still utterly confused by the postal system. Waiting two days for a letter speaks of their efficiency well enough, I think." Albus frowned. He didn't like admitting he was in the wrong.

"You should have phoned, at very least."

Albus knew he was right. A pity he still didn't understand how the teliphone worked either (tilepone? No, it definitely was with an 'f' sound. Maybe letiphone? Pff, what did it matter?)

He was saved from replying when the woman on the other half of the phone returned. "She'll be right back."

"Thank you," he said, and he took a careful step back. Severus was giving him one of those piercing cold looks, the ones that demanded explanations and attention. He got those quite often from the Potions professor.

Not a moment later the door was thrown open. An eldery woman stood before them, pale blue eyes wide with shock. She took in the two me on her doorstep, positively staring at Albus. It took him a few moments to recognize her as the young nurse that had been behind the bureau fifty years ago.

"Hello," he greeted with a jovial grin. "I am professor Dumbledore, and this is professor Snape." He gestured to the man with a wide, cheery wave of his arm.

"Martha Green," she replied. "I run this orphanage." Her gaze snapped back to Albus, clear understanding finally lighting her eyes.

"You've come to take another one to your… school, haven't you?" She accused him- there was no other word for her tone of voice.

She took a step back to let them in, revealing a hallway., nicely decorated in pastel colours and oaken half-tables between every door. The hallway gave Albus the distinctive feeling of a maze, even though it was perfectly straight.

"My apologies, Martha," Albus said. "I hope this one hasn't been causing any problems around here." He didn't miss the way Severus stiffened, as though paying the conversation a bit more attention than he should.

The lady froze for a moment, before replying. "No. No, there have been a few accidents, of course. But," she added bracingly, "nothing like Tom. This one's more… controlled. My word, I don't know where we'd be without her!" She nodded firmly, as if she wanted to look extra reassuring, before leading them to the reception room.

_+_+_T_+_+_

"You've remodelled," Albus remarked softly, gazing a the soft painted walls and luxurious oaken doors. Gone were the grey walls that were once covered with faded floral wallpaper. It was startling, the difference it made, turning the cold grey into a warm array of soothing colours.

The reception room had been arranged as one would expect a living room, a nice red-brown rug in the middle. A coffee-table stood before it, and surrounding it were numerous couches and chairs, a gathering of different materials, sizes and colours. It should have been a something between a disarray and a colour-clash, but instead it looked homey, and inviting.

"About five years ago, " Martha replied airily. She nodded towards a very antique looking couch, while taking a seat in an blue armchair herself. "Would you like some tea? I can whip some up in a minute."

"That would be lovely, thank you."

Albus could hear Martha in the hallway, asking one of the nurses to get some tea from the kitchen.

Beside him, Snape tugged at the stitching on his waistcoat. The potions master wore a scowl, glaring at the room as though it had done him a great injustice. Thankfully, it was only a few minutes later that they were all sipping raspberry tea. Severus kept glancing at him impatiently. No doubt he was extremely aware of the headmaster's limited time and didn't want to be stuck explaining everything to the girl. Dumbledore sighed and returned the cup to its saucer. "Best get on to business then," he broke the silence.

"Shall I go get her?" Martha asked.

"I haven't given you the name yet," Dumbledore replied.

"I hardly think I need it. She's a bit of an odd sort."

"Odd?"

And here Martha smiled fondly. The expression warmed her face, making her look several years younger. "There's … just something about her." She got to het feet. "I'll be back in a moment."

Then she was gone

_+_+_T_+_+_

So, I rewrote this chapter! What do ya think?

Thanks for reading!

Sofie


	3. 3- Bored Confusion and One-way Streets

Chapter Three- Bored Confusion

Rose had always disliked people. They were never surprising, never original, and always so _dumb_. It was a shame, really, that she hadn't met more people like her. Because her books were nice, her devices were nice, even the kids in the orphanage were nice. But they were never new. She always knew exactly what to expect, and how to get people to do what she wanted them to do. It was a shame, really. It made life so _boring._

Even the library was starting to fail her. It may be the biggest library in town, but it had stood no chance against a bored Rose. There were only five bookcases left. Hardly half a day reading. She saved it for her birthday, or well, the day that passed as her birthday here. It was next week. Maybe she should do something big for a change. Design a new kind of phone. Launch a new brand of groceries.

She sighed. She didn't know.

She had made her own ideas come true, but there were no ideas left. And so she was left to wallow in boredom while time ticked away. Maybe she should get a job somewhere. Learn how to carve wood or swordfight. Something she hadn't done before. Maybe she could make her own brand of computers. Or she could experiment some more with The Power she had.

When she was younger, she hadn't realised she was the only one who had The Power. She had often asked Mrs Green why she was cooking or vacuuming herself. Why didn't she let The Power do it?

It was only when she saw Michael fall down the stairs that she realised that it wasn't that the other kids hadn't done anything because they hated Michael. In fact, they'd all ran after him, screamed for Mrs Green, and had proceeded to cry for the slightly older boy who often helped them with their homework. Then Mrs Green had come back from the hospital, and she hadn't scolded them. In fact, she'd congratulated them on their job well done. Rose had watched it all with big eyes. She didn't understand? Why hadn't they saved him? She hadn't done anything because she assumed someone closer to Michael, someone older and smarter, would do it, and she wasn't sure she'd actually be able to lift his weight. Had all the other kids thought the same? But then why had Mrs Green congratulated them? It had taken her all of three days to figure out the answer. She was alone in this world. And she'd be locked away if they ever discovered her.

The next day, Mrs Green had taken her to the library, and she had been able to confirm her hypothesis.

The Power was quite interesting, though. She'd done a lot of things with it already. Lifted things, frozen thing, made things turn into something else, made people comply with her wishes, and made them think the things she wanted them to think, but she had yet to find an answer to the question 'How on earth have I done this?' .

But she did that almost every day, and it hadn't given her an answer yet. Rose firmly believed that if an experiment didn't give any useful results, one was supposed to make another experiment.

Rose sighed. Bored, bored, bored. Booooooring.

_Peep, peep._

Her computer beeped. It was her own kind of security system. The cameras could recognize all children and caretakers in the orphanage, but would alert her if anyone not programmed into its memory would enter the building. Rose quickly sat up straight, and pressed the gleaming blue button. A screen popped up from her bureau, showing her all the rooms of the orphanage in clear colours. Rose's gaze quickly swept over the moving scenes, finding the one she was looking for.

The reception room.

A new parent then, maybe. Rose selected the reception room with nimble fingers. No, not a pair looking for an adoption.

The visitors were two men, and they were not gay. Well, maybe they were, but they were not together with each other, at least.

That would be gross. The age difference was simply too great.

There was one with what looked like permanent scowl on his face, who looked positively uncomfortable in his waistcoat and black trousers. His hair was black, the kind of black that was truly black, and had not even a hint of another colour. His face was a sickly colour. He was pale, the kind of pale one was when one did not venture outside for long periods of time. Rose recognized it easily, she'd had that colour too, once upon a time. Nowadays she made it a point to spend time outside with her computer, so she wouldn't look sick. It gave off a bad vibe. He looked unhealthy thin, even with the slightly bellowing waistcoat. He had the appearance of a ghost.

No, not a ghost. A vampire.

Rose could sense he was cold, but had a heart. He was not a man to trifle with, but he was fair. However, he didn't mind diverting from his judgement if it suited him.

The other men could have been father Christmas. A long beard, snowy white, almost reached the floor. Half-moon spectacles covered blue twinkling eyes, and wrinkled hands carefully held the standard teacup from the orphanage. He was gentle, but gave off a vibe of power. Not a man to trifle with either. This one, however, was more likely to forgive and forget. Sometimes to a fault. He was fond of a lot of people, was easy fond of a person. Was uneasily not fond of a person. However, he would use persons he was fond of if he had to. Would manipulate, would kill, even. Would knowingly assign someone to their death without a doubt or second thought, for the greater goal. No, not the greater goal. The greater … destiny … no, not right either. Mmm. He did believe in destiny and stuff, but he only killed for the greater …

Rose frowned lightly. The two little lines on her forehead looked out of place on a face as young and seemingly carefree as hers.

Father Christmas was difficult to read. Well, not difficult. Just, less easy. He was interesting. Rose tilted her head, and slipped off the too-big-chair with a grace that belied her age. She would investigate him further.

Rose quickly ruffled her hair, and rubbed her eyes. She didn't like the feeling of power the two men gave off. She would appear innocent. She needed to practise her acting anyway. It was one of her weakest points. She didn't know how to appear to be anyone else than herself. Rose took a deep breath and strode out of the room purposefully.

_+_+_T_+_+_

Mrs Green was about to walk up the stairs when Rose came walking down.

"Rose. I was just searching for you. You have visitors, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape. They're from a school for the gifted." Mrs Green stated blankly, straight to the point. A rare thing for her.

Rose blinked once. Twice. That had come unexpected. Both Mrs Green who was straight to the point, and people who came to invite her to a school for the gifted were not common occurrences.

Mmm, she always thought she'd been clever in hiding herself. Apparently not.

Well, at least she had something to do now.

"From what?"

"A school for the gifted." Mrs Green smiled, rare smile that looked weird on her wrinkled face. "They can explain it better than I can ever hope to do. They're in the reception room, I trust you know where that is? If you scream, I'll come running."

Rose blinked once again. "Okay. Are they particularly dangerous or do you just feel like joking around?"

Mrs Green chuckled, another rare thing for her. She must be feeling under the weather. "I don't expect they'll hurt you, but I haven't seen one of them in fifty years, and I've never met the other one. They're both very … off"

"Okay," Rose nodded. "Then why don't you come with me?" She was curious to see if Mrs Green would accept. Her guardian had the most amazing survival instinct. If she did, it would mean those men weren't really dangerous. If she didn't, well, then Rose would know she had to be extra careful.

"Oh, okay, that's fine, then. I'll come with you. But you'll probably want to be alone with them. They wanted to speak alone to T..Tom as well." Rose didn't miss the stutter.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Oh, well, then I'll meet them alone. Thank you for offering, Mrs Green."

The Matron looked a bit dazed, but nodded nonetheless. "Okay, um, I'll just go on … cleaning. Yes, the library desperately needs a good clean, yes."

Rose smiled condescendingly at her, making full use of the fact that she was still standing on the staircase, and therefore, was a few heads higher than Mrs Green.

"Okay ma'am. I'll scream if they do something wrong."

She walked the last few steps down, and brushed past Mrs Green, through the brightly lit hallway, to the reception room. She stopped before the oaken door, ruffling her hair and rubbing her eyes again. It was one of the things that helped her focus before putting up a performance.

_+_+_T_+_+_

The feeling of The Power almost overwhelmed her as she stepped into the room. She reigned her Own Power back immediately, pushing it to her body, holding it in her chest like one would cradle a new born baby. She actually felt like a new born in presence of the Older Powers in this room. She stood frozen for a moment, before taking another step, and then one more. There were two kinds of The Power, she could feel now. One old and wise, but withering. The Other Power was younger, but not in the prime of its life anymore. Despite the years of difference, the Old Power was still obviously the strongest, tall and proud and brave. It reminded her of a proud soldier, puffing out his chest as he received a medal for an action from years ago.

The Younger Power was sneaky and slimy, like reptile hiding its fangs before striking, and she didn't want it anywhere near her Power, for she was afraid it would contaminate her Own Power.

The two Other Powers in the room mixed like old acquaintances, and it gave her a weird, coppery taste in her mouth. She didn't like where this was going. Obviously, there were others with The Power. She didn't know what it meant for her, and she didn't quite know if she had to be excited, subdued, or scared shitless. Were they coming to aid her in her quest to figure out how It worked? Had they figured that out already? What were their intentions? That boy Martha spoke about, Tom, did he ever come back? Were they going to kill her? Teach her? Help her? Question her? She hated not knowing.

Well, at least she now no longer was alone on this world.

She lifted her gaze, and met that of Father Christmas. The teacup stood on the table before him, and his hands were clasped together. They looked a lot stronger like this then they did holding a teacup. The Old Power must be his. She suddenly felt a lot less braver, not truly sure she could fool them now.

Or handle them, for that matter. If they decided to attack her, would she be able to overpower them? She had always relied heavily on her Power. All the things she had always prided herself on; her memory, her ability to process things at astonishing rate, _Her Power_, were they all things the others could do as well? Was there anything original about her?

She suddenly had a hard time keeping her face devoid of emotion.

She stood, hesitating, just inside the doorway for a moment, before crossing over to one of the brown armchairs. She would hold onto her original plans for now. She took a deep breath, calmed herself, smoothed out a few wrinkles in her dark blue blouse, and perched upon the armchair like the armchair was a throne and she the queen. She had perfected that look many years ago.

"Hello," she said with a fake smile and a nod of her head. "I'm Rose Adiusto."

The reaction to her name wasn't quite what she expected. Father Christmas raised his eyebrows while giving her a nod, his blue eyes twinkling in a most peculiar condescending-fond gesture. The Vampire's sneer had softened when she walked into the room, but had now hardened to a calm, murderous look, coupled with a tensed and menacing posture.

Rose felt a shiver up her spine when his cold, metallic eyes met hers. They did not promise much good. Had she done something wrong already?

"I'm very sorry, Miss Adiusto. Whatever Mrs Green has told you, we're looking for a certain Miss Emrys. Jane Emrys. Do you, by any chance, recognize the name?" Father Christmas peeked at her over the top of his half-moon glasses. His eyes had stopped twinkling.

Rose folded her hands together and lifted her chin a bit. There was no one in the Orphanage named Emrys, and there had never been one since she turned five and had access to Mrs Green's computer for the first time. But before indulging them, she would get to the bottom of this.

"Could you tell me _your_ names, or is common courtesy only an one-way road in your school?" Her voice was sharper than she intended, but she hated rude people.

Father Christmas chuckled, a dry, heavy sound that Rose did not like at all, while Vampire's glare hardened to frozen magma.

"I'm professor Dumbledore, and I'm Headmaster of the school Professor Snape, here, works in. We've come to offer Jane Emrys a place in our school."

Rose was not quite finished with them. Her mind ran over a list of possible candidates. Rose herself, of course, then there was Penny, who was exceptional academically speaking, but a catastrophe when it came to anything remotely close to sports. You had Otto, he was good at stealing just about anything, and Chloe, who had an unbelievable accurate sense of impending doom and unexpected tests. A sort of clairvoyant, if you will.

"Mrs Green said that you were from a school for the gifted. What is you exact definition of gifted? Mrs Green was rather … vague." Her voice laced with Compulsion, winding through the words with Power, infusing them with her intent, and she could feel it trying to catch onto Father Christmas and the Vampire.

It slipped off.

It was like their Power formed a shield around them, an undisturbed cocoon. She could feel the remnants of her Compulsion grabbing hold, but they were weak, and would only nudge the Vampire and Father Christmas in the right direction. Rose frowned lightly. Granted, the Compulsion hadn't been very strong, but she had never encountered this with anyone before. Maybe it was their Power? She hated not knowing. She hated not being able to make them do what she wanted. She took back what she said. Being able to do everything was boring, but also safe. She liked safety.

"Hogwarts is a school a select few can attend, and its requirements are strictly personal. Would you kindly fetch Jane Emrys for us? You must have heard of her. It's her birthday today." Father Christmas inquired. He hadn't liked her prying into his business. She contemplated for a moment if he had felt the Compulsion, but quickly threw away that theory. If it hadn't been _her_ Power, even she wouldn't have noticed the remnants. They were simply too weak and little. Even so, she shouldn't have let her mask slip like that. She was going to look innocent, right? And so far, she wasn't doing a real good job.

_Get your head back in the game, Rose._

_+_+_T_+_+_

_"There's just… something about her." She got to her feet. "I'll be back in a moment."_

_Then she was gone._

Dumbledore exchanged looks with Severus. He didn't have to be a legilimens to know that the potion's professor was completely baffled- as was he. Last time, the previous Matron had turned positively green at the mention of Tom. The stark difference was so apparent that it floored him completely. Hearing soft footsteps out in the hallway, both men turned. The footsteps seemed to pause, and then continued.

The heavy door opened, revealing a girl about ten years. Maybe eleven.

Rather tall for her age, she had a halo of light brown curls. Handsome cheekbones chiselled her face, but they weren't what caught the Headmaster's attention. Dumbledore had always taken pride in his twinkling blue eyes, but this girl's eyes put them to shame. Her eyes were a rich navy colour, flecked with hues belonging only to the sky and sea, bright with curiosity and scrutinization. They were bottomless lakes of knowledge and experience, sparkling oceans of light- ancient and wise. And, they twinkled with humour, as though she were privy to a joke about the world and only she knew it.

Dumbledore's twinkle twinkled its brightest twinkle. He met her eyes as she looked up. She gave him a hard, slightly nervous stare. After her pause she walked over to one of the armchairs, a luxurious decorated brown one. She moved, Dumbledore noted amused, with the grace of a pure-blood child. She sat down on the chairs, legs neatly tucked away, and chin held high. She looked out of place in the neat but shabby reception room. He could easily imagine her in a royal blue dress, sitting on a throne as she greeted her subjects.

"Hello," she greeted them with a soft, melodic voice that completely fitted her. "I'm Rose Adiusto."

Dumbledore could feel Severus stiffen beside him, and knew the potions master was giving the poor girl one of his menacing glares. He himself couldn't help but feel both amused by the situation and sorry for the girl before him. Obviously the muggle had gotten it wrong, and the poor girl would have to be disappointed by them. She was probably all kinds of excited, and he hated disappointing people.

He took a deep breath. "I'm very sorry, Miss Adiusto. Whatever Mrs Green has told you, we're looking for a certain Miss Emrys. Jane Emrys. Do you, by any chance, recognize the name?". He had expected some kind of disappointed reaction, but instead, all he got was a blanc face. The girl watched him with empty eyes, devoid of anything but emptiness. Did she even understand him?

"Could you tell me _your_ names, or is common courtesy only an one-way road in your school?"

The retort came completely unexpected, and Dumbledore repressed the urge to start. Her voice was sharp. She wasn't amused.

Still, Dumbledore couldn't help but chuckle at her fiery attitude. He would answer her, he decided, what harm could it do, after all? And she had been right. It wasn't appropriate to demand an a name and not give one in return. He wouldn't meet her after this, and he had decided he liked her. She was a Gryffindor, he could tell.

"I'm professor Dumbledore, and I'm Headmaster of the school Professor Snape, here," he nodded in Severus' direction. "works in. We've come to offer Jane Emrys a place in our school." He tilted his head ever so slightly, scrutinizing the girl. She appeared completely comfortable, arms loose beside her body, hands clasped together in the middle. Normally muggles couldn't help but feel anxious in his proximity. He eyed her more carefully this time. Maybe there were two witches in this orphanage. She excluded a sense of power, one he didn't normally associate with muggles. Either that, or she was just brave to the point of recklessness.

Her next sentence managed to plead for the second conclusion.

"Mrs Green said that you were from a school for the gifted. What is you exact definition of gifted? Mrs Green was rather … vague."

While Dumbledore liked Gryffindors -even favoured them- he did not approve of recklessness. And certainly not of rudeness. This girl, however fiery she was, had nothing to do with Hogwarts. She had no business prying into another's private affairs. He levelled a stern gaze.

Insolent girl.

"Hogwarts is a school a select few can attend, and its requirements are strictly personal. Would you kindly fetch Jane Emrys for us? You must have heard of her. It's her birthday today."

He had come here for a reason, and if this girl continued like this, he would be gone without speaking a word to the witch. Severus would be left to do the explaining. He may trust the potions master with his life, but this was not a kind of task that suited his character.

_+_+_T_+_+_

_So, hey!_

_I had TEN views! Wow! (holds mini-party)_

_If only one of you guys would review, then I'd at least know if I'm doing it right…_

_But, don't feel obliged (hint, hint, nudge, nudge)._

_Have a nice day!_

_Sofie (AKA USoTN's)_


	4. 4- Stealthy Thiefs and Ticking Tok's

Chapter Four- The Suitcase and The Stick

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The ancient clock in the hallway ticked away the seconds.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Dumbledore stared at the stubborn girl before him. He was waiting for her to answer his question, but he couldn't see any indicator that suggested she had even thought about his question. Would he have to call the Matron?

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

While Severus glared at the insolent muggle, he had trouble believing her audacity. Who did she think she was, demanding answers like it was the most normal thing in the world? At the same time, he had felt almost inclined to comply with her request, which made him slightly uneasy. He was a slytherin! He never complied with any request without demanding something in return, and here he was, having almost defied _the _wizarding law, the Statue of Secrecy. He couldn't believe himself!

The muggle didn't make him feel once ounce more at ease. She appeared too confident, too calm. He'd become used to the slightly hysteric behaviour of muggles around magic. Something wasn't right. But what did he have to fear? After all, the girl before him, was just that. Only a girl. Then why did he feel so uneasy? Was it the fact that he could hear the time ticking away in the deadly silence that had ensued after Dumbledore had snapped his question?

But if there was anything Severus wasn't, it was unintelligent. Something about this girl didn't add up.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Rose waited. And waited. She wasn't going to share information voluntary, but wasn't going to answer their questions either, she'd decided. They wouldn't hurt her, she knew now. Their conscience wouldn't let them. She wasn't quite sure when she would share the fact that Jane Emrys did not live in this Orphanage. But she would see. She'd wait. She'd time, after all.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Mrs Green entered with some cookies, cakes, and new cups filled with tea. The gears in Rose's brain started to turn. She carefully eyed the leather suitcase Father Christmas had carried with him. A plan formed in her head. She would find out what these two were up to. She had to.

After all, nothing done in this orphanage went without her knowing about it.

Rose tried to hide her evil grin, and failed spectacularly.

Rose tried to smile up at her guardian, instead of grinning, but didn't quite succeed. "Thank you, Mrs Green. Please, could you help us out? These gentleman are searching for a certain Jane Emrys. I, personally, am having trouble imagining a face with the name. Do you recall anyone with that name? It's supposed to be her birthday today, but since we only know the exact birthdays of 37 percent of the children here, that's not a very good starting point."

Mrs Green looked startled, but Rose couldn't really blame her. Mrs Green had never specifically liked talking to her after Rose had accidentally frozen her tongue to her lips. Rose hadn't been able to help herself back then. Mrs Green just used to _talk so much_.She could control her Power now, but Mrs Green didn't need to know that.

"Oh, um… I can't really… recall anyone with that name," she stuttered, her face a bit red. "But let me, let me just go check in my, my office."

The Vampire made to say something, but Rose smoothly spoke right over him. "That's a fantastic idea ma'am. In fact, I think it's the best if we all just join you. After all, we don't want to delay the professors here any longer then necessary, do we? I'm sure they have much better things to occupy themselves with than waiting for some silly computer to finish printing."

She didn't dare to look at the Vampire now. His glares were lethal. She could feel his eyes burning through her forehead, and into her eyeballs. Instead of looking up, she stood up.

She didn't wait for Mrs Green's answer.

"Well, let us go, then." Her voice had the tone of finality her Matron would recognize. Rose knew Mrs Green knew Rose knew Mrs Green would obey out of fear. It didn't change anything, the knowing. Mrs Green would still follow her lead.

Rose strode out of the room, knowing the two professors were still sitting, and would therefore follow her about 13 seconds later. Mrs Green would wait for them. After all, her Matron had impeccable manners. She, however, would get her equipment.

She made a quick right, followed by the second blue-painted door left, which led to a seemingly almost empty kitchen. She turned, opened the wooden drawer to her right, and quickly got out a too-sharp blade and little hefts that were encased in little pillows. Her makeshift pickpocket set. She had a better set up in her loft, but this would just have to do for now. She wouldn't be able to get it without being missed. Well, not necessarily _missed_. She hadn't exactly succeeded in her attempt to fool them into imagining her as a soft, sweet girl. She speculated they were rather annoyed with her attitude.

But, sometimes you couldn't have everything.

She hid her set inside her pocket, turned on her heels, and quickly made her way over to Mrs Green's office.

_+_+_T_+_+_

Rose got to the office exactly three seconds before Vampire, Father Christmas and Mrs Green turned around the corner. She allowed herself a sigh, and then quickly moved the mouse over the Didle-mousepad, lightning up the screen. Her fingers flew over the keys, and by the time the others had joined her, she was already starting the orphanage's recording system. She stood, allowing Mrs Green to take her place behind the screen, and slinked back to the corner of the white-painted office. Vampire and Father Christmas were soon standing behind Mrs Green's chair, seemingly enchanted by the bright screen.

"So," Father Christmas said. "What is the meaning of this… device?" He faintly wave to the screen with his left hand, a slight frown marring his face. He seemed completely confused by the ancient computer.

Mrs Green answered something, but Rose was no longer listening.

She waited for a few seconds - she had time, the orphanage's system was out-dated, illogical and slow- before raising her hand to her middle, and asking her Power nicely if it would please co-operate with robbing Father Christmas. It bubbled up surprisingly easy, and the knife in her pocket started to float. It softly floated out of her pocket, and moved to the general direction of Father Christmas' suitcase.

Her Power faltered, and the knife fell.

Rose's eyes widened, terror piercing her heart with icy shards, but at the last possible moment, her Power deemed it fit to save her from dying from embarrassment. The knife floated about two centimetres above the ground.

Rose closed her eyes and let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

She took a moment to regain control, then carried on.

The knife floated to Father Christmas' suitcase again. It slowly began cutting around the edges of his suitcase, and slowly but surely, the bottom began to break loose. Halfway through the cutting, Father Christmas made a sudden movement, and Rose froze, adrenaline charging through her veins.

He'd sneezed.

It seemed to take years, but it couldn't have been more than 3 minutes. Then it was finally - _finally-_ cut halfway through. Rose's power kept it in place, otherwise it surely would have collapsed. Slowly, slowly but surely, one side of the suitcase lifted a bit, clearly revealing all the contents, held in place by Rose's Power.

Rose felt like oddly detached from her body, like she was seeing someone else play a role on TV. She tried to shake off the feeling- after all, it couldn't be healthy- in vain.

Then, all the stuff slowly started to make their way out of the bag towards her. All the things stayed close to the floor- or maybe they were touching the floor. Rose couldn't see it clearly from her position, and frankly, she didn't care. They didn't make any sound whatsoever, and that was what counted. They all floated to her in a weird, circular-like pattern, almost seeming like some weird giant snake. They all slithered into the empty box -which was meant for letters Mrs Green was supposed to post- a few steps beside Rose.

The little hefts in her pocket were next. She was acting quicker now, her heartbeat sounding in her ear. She shouldn't get caught now.

Her power levitated the little hefts- close to the floor once again, to avoid attracting attention- right into Father Christmas' bag. Rose concentrated more than she probably ever had, and felt, rather than saw, her Power attach the hefts to the bottom of Father Christmas' suitcase.

Then, the two loose ends began knitting together, which looked strange and totally out of place. The surface seemed to melt and bubble, and then the two ends met, and just like that, the bag was fixed.

Rose closed her eyes to regain focus and celebrate quietly. Nobody had seemed to notice anything odd. Maybe these two men were less dangerous then she'd thought.

She was going to stand next to Mrs Green, and be quiet and a good girl for what remained of the visit, when she noticed something odd.

Two wooden sticks were 'sticking' out of their jacket-pockets. Two elegantly decorated, shiny sticks.

_Damn her curiosity._

Resisting the urge to sigh, she once again asked her magic for help. It co-operated way too quickly, almost yanking the stick out of the Headmaster's

pocket.

She held still, gauging Father Christmas' reaction. He was, however, still gawking at the computer screen. Rose briefly wondered if she should analyse his behaviour, and scan his feelings, but quickly came to the conclusion that there were more pressing matters right now.

Her heartbeat pulsed in her ear.

The stick joined the rest of Father Chrismas' things.

Right.

This was going good. Suddenly Rose wanted to laugh. Everything was going _amazing_. She was _robbing_ people. She'd never robbed people before. That was all Otto.

Well, this was Otto's method, wasn't it? Putting in hefts so there was no difference in weight. So this was half Otto, half herself.

Oh, who was she kidding? _She_ was going to get punished. They were going to catch her. Of course they were. She was _ten_, for God's sake! There was no way she was going to get away with this.

She glanced at Father Christmas and Vampire. They were both engrossed in surnames with the letter T.

Well, maybe she was. They hadn't noticed anything yet, had they?

She took a shuddering breath. She was going to finish this. Rose Adiusto never did anything halfway.

Vampire's stick floated away with almost indecent haste.

And done.

She had to get out of here.

She would not be there when they found out.

_+_+_T_+_+_

_More will follow in this chapter; just thought I'd post this already_

_XXX_

_Sofie (AKA USoTN's)_

_So, this is it for this chappie; and I already got a faint idea of what the next chapter will look like._

_More IMPORTANT info; I got 32 views. WOWOWWOW! That means 32 different people have read MY story!_

_XXX_

_Sofie (AKA USoTN's)_


	5. 5- Filthy Cabs and Jostling Bags

Chapter Five- Cabs and Bags, and Chasing

Rose carefully descended the stairs, keeping the post-it box close to her chest. She could feel her heart beating against the cheap carton, creating a rhythmical dull thudding. Her entire body was shaking faintly from excess adrenaline and disbelief. Never before had she stolen. She had acted more rashly than she normally did today.

Oh God, what if they discovered it was her? Would they come after her? She had to get away. Now, before they noticed _all _their stuff was gone. Rise clamped the box more firmly to her chest, feeling determination well up in her. They just should have told her. She couldn't stand secrets. And certainly not when they were kept in her orphanage.

Still, she was scared. She'd never dealt with anyone with Power before. Hell, she'd never dealt with anyone with resistance to Compulsion before. Even when she was three, she already used Compulsion subconsciously. She didn't know what they could do to her. Maybe they would rip her...

Rose took a deep, shuddering breath, and banished those thoughts from her head. She could do this. First things first. If they never caught her, they couldn't very well kill her now, could they? She'd rent a room in a hotel. Yes, that sounded like a good idea.

She turned around, and went back the way she came.

Up the stairs, through the familiar oaken door, up another flight of creaky stairs, then up the narrow flight of stairs tucked away in one corner of the top floor that led to her attic.

She stood in the doorway for a second, arranging her priority's. She needed money, clothes, her laptop, her watch, her toiletries, and her mobile phone.

She strode over to her dresser, put down the box, and quickly grabbed a weekend bag. She stuffed some clothes inside, not really bothering to select them- she could always buy some new pants or so. Then she gently shook the post-it box empty in a plastic bag, and managed to grab her watch and mobile phone in one hand. She threw them into her bag while walking to her bureau, shortly marvelling at the fact that they actually fell _in_ the bag, and not beside it. She then proceeded to carefully pick up her laptop, which was easily the most valuable thing she ever owned, and its charger.

Putting her purse in her pocket, she was ready to leave.

She swung her weekend bag over her shoulder and carefully picked up the plastic bag. She didn't know what was in there, and she didn't think there was anything particularly dangerous in there- after all, Father Christmas hadn't handled it with caution. But still, she wouldn't like to find out the hard way if there was anything volatile in there. The two visitors gave off a vibe of authority she didn't like.

She whirled around, and rushed through the oaken doorway again, her movements more quick and agile then before. They probably- finished combing through the system. That meant Vampire and Father Christmas were going to take their leave, or do something else. But they were probably going to leave. They probably came with a car. For a car, they needed keys. Keys she probably stole.

There were a lot of probably's in there, but Rose wasn't going to rely on 'probably' to save her ass. She ran down the stairs, almost tripping over the dark blue carpeting in her haste. She stumbled into the hallway, and dashed towards the entryway. She wretched open the door...

And stopped in her tracks.

Vampire and Father Christmas were walking away from the orphanage, their backs turned to her.

Rose held still, hoping they couldn't hear her heartbeat.

They continued steadily.

As soon as the two men turned the corner, Rose made a run for it in the opposite direction, bumping and smashing into passer-by's, almost slipping while turning around the other corner.

And then she realized she'd forgotten this road made a square.

Grimacing she stopped yet again. She made to turn around- really, she'd already done this turning around so many times today, she should get therapy or something- but at that moment Father Christmas and Vampire turned the corner.

The first thing she noticed- it was hard to overlook, really- was Vampire's expression, He looked angry. No, angry didn't quite cover it. He seemed livid. Had they found out already? Should she turn around? Did they know she stole from them? Should she run away?

_Did the world truly hate her?_

And eventually she walked on, because stopping would have been way too suspicious and way too dumb.

As she passed them, she shot the both of them a grin, which she hoped looked more like a smile than a grimace. "Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape. If I may be so bold, could I ask you if you found who you were looking for?"

She'd contemplated not saying anything, but had come to the conclusion that could be reason for suspicion.

Father Christmas shot her a kind, wise smile, with twinkling blue eyes that showed her she was forgiven for her behaviour fifteen minutes ago.

_By God, it had only been fifteen minutes._

Vampire's face was set in a softer scowl now, band she was starting to suspect animosity was etched into his face. He didn't seem to sneer at her; he seemed to sneer at the whole world in general, actually giving appearance of completely ignoring her, while still looking straight in her direction with piercing, cold eyes.

"No, I'm afraid I will have to admit that our visit proved futile. However, it did turn out to be a most interesting visit, with the most interesting hostess." He smiled once again, and Rose's breath caught in her throat. What was he implying? That he was amused at her little act of stealing?

Her brain seemed to circle itself, like a dog chasing its tail.

Suddenly realizing she'd stood there staring at Father Christmas for at least ten seconds, but she still struggled to come up with an answer, a feeling completely foreign to her. Father Christmas' gaze became slightly concerned.

"Please, forgive me for my slanderous behaviour, professor. I'd excuse myself, saying I was caught up in the moment, but my manners were simply unacceptable."

She was babbling, hadn't yet realised what just had come out of her mouth, but didn't care either way.

"Now, I'm very sorry to deprive you of my presence, but I'm afraid I will have to take my leave. Things to do, a world to save, you know, just the usual. I… yes, Have a nice day!"

Then she passed them and hurried on, cheeks aflame, and eyes closed in mortification. Could she be any more mortifying when she was nervous?

Behind her, she suddenly heard a deep booming voice. A gravelly, hoarse voice. It commanded attention without being loud. It sounded like a high-school teacher.

It was a voice she hadn't yet heard, but she recognized the grating sound almost immediately. It was obviously Vampire.

"You! Muggle girl! Get back here!"

Rose heard fast footsteps coming her way, and the soothing baritone of Father Christmas, trying to slow Vampire down. She could feel his Power approaching.

_Damn, damn, damn. Why? Why couldn't they have discovered the theft five seconds later?_

Rose did the only thing that wouldn't land her in prison. If Vampire called for other reasons than the theft, they would probably discover it when she was there. But he probably called because they discovered her deception, and she had their stuff _right here, _in the most suspicious plastic bag known to mankind. So, she made a run for it.

_+_+_T_+_+_

Rose had never been build for athletics. She didn't have the coordination that came in handy when one was trying not to fall flat on one's face. She was more of a I-stay-safely-in-my-armchair-while-I-discover-more-ways-to-rob-the-government-of-money-type of girl. She absolutely loathed anything remotely related to sport with a passion. So, as soon as the snarky Vampire had come running after her, she was planning how to escape without running too much. She knew she wouldn't be able to stay out of his hands for long. He was faster than her by far, but she was smaller, and manoeuvred through the crowds of people with experience that came from living in a city all her life. Vampire, however, was blindly charging through the crowd, using brute force, and leaving a string of offended people in his wake. Which was completely senseless, if you asked Rose.

And so she shook him off by shooting into a small alley, which was virtually invisible to the hurrying by-passer. It was dark, it stank of rubbish, and more … savage things. There were probably all kinds of slippery, spidery things in here, and Rose didn't like being close to such… things.

So, as soon as the professor had passed, she slipped out of the alley, crossed the street, and broke into a run again. Her weekend bag beat against her back. The plastic bag jostled. She's forgotten to be careful with it.

Oh, well. Couldn't very well go back and fix that, now? Apparently, there was nothing too lethal in there. She was glad she hadn't been killed or severely injured.

Rose stopped, out of breath, a few streets further. She really needed to work on her condition. It was pathetic. Walking (and running, by default) to her hotel were not options she'd like to explore. The hotel was in the richer part of London, which was at least half an hour walking from here. Her feet already hurt, thank you very much.

Rose stuck out a hand, and had to wait for only a few seconds before a dirty yellow cab halted.

"Goin' somewhere, lassy?" The grimy window rolled down to reveal a middle-aged man, already going bald on the top of his head, grinning wolf-like at her with rotten teeth.

Rose looked down her nose at him. "Yes. To the Capital Hotel please. Do I have to give you an address or can you find it all by yourself?"

The driver's expression had sufficiently changed into awed recognition. "Yes ma'am. D'you wan' me to take the fas' route, ma'am, or the touristic route?"

"The fast route, please. If you get me there within five minutes, I'll pay you double." Something switched in the driver's brain, and Rose could almost see the effete gears turning.

"I'll pay for any fines you get," she added, and knew she had him. He grinned wider, revealing an empty space where once two molars resided. They'd probably died a brutal dead, Rose imagined. _Just as she maybe would, should she be found._

A shiver crept down her spine.

She quickly got into the too-warm cab, welcoming the heat after all the frights she had had today. The whole cab was grimy and petite. Not first-class accommodation, but it would suffice for now. As soon as she closed the door, the cabbie took off, speeding away with a speed that should not be possible with a normal street cab. Rose shut her eyes, fighting the qualmishness in her tummy, and the urge to stop the cab and hail another one. However unlikely it was that Vampire was in the same street as the cab, she still didn't want to leave the refuge of the cab and take the chance. She was temporarily safe in here. He couldn't possibly get her out of a driving car, could he?

Well, now she thought about it… Maybe he could. Her Power grew as she got older, so his Power must be many times stronger. So maybe he could get her out of here. But she'd shaken him off pretty quickly, hadn't she? If he had enough Power, then surely he would have been able to feel her Power, and determine where she was, or something of that sort. But maybe everyone had Power, just in different degrees of strength. And maybe because her Power wasn't strong enough, she couldn't feel all of them. But maybe Vampire could, and maybe she was just one more little dot Power, surrounded by others. That way it would be impossible to track her down using her own Power against her.

Rose rubbed her temples. She got a headache from this. Okay, no more thoughts about evil Vampires that ate girls for breakfast. Instead, she resolved to look out of the window, staring at the trees that flashed by.

13…14…15…16,17… … … 18…19..20,21..

There was no pattern in the way the trees were placed in this street, but Rose found it strangely soothing to watch them as they flew by.

When she'd counted 137 trees, the cabbie halted.

"We're here, ma'am. I can' go any further than' this, It's private parkin' space."

Rose nodded, and got her purse out. She handed him some bills, probably almost thrice the price she had to pay, but that didn't matter. He could have it. She'd seen a policeman noting the license plate. She wordlessly handed it over to him, and got out of the grimy cab, glad to be able to inhale fresh air. She once again threw her weekend bag over her shoulder so she had her hands free for the plastic bag, and then she hurried towards The Capital Hotel.

Time to reveal the Secret kept from her. She quickly got out her phone and sms-ed Mrs Green, Otto, Penny and Chloe.

_Am in a hotel. Will contact later. Won't be home for few days._

_See you soon,_

_RA_

_+_+_T_+_+_

_So, here's my fifth chapter! School started again, so updates will probably be shorter and later. Well, maybe not. I get bored in school easily, so maybe the opposite will happen. We'll see._

_Have a nice day!_

_Sofie (AKA USoTN's)_


	6. 6- Stolen Wands and Lost Twinkles

A Founder's day- Chapter six

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was having a Godric of a day.

Firstly, there had been the surprise of the orphage. Another magical child from that place within fifty years? It was a miracle. And Albus had been sucked right in. He'd wanted to meet the child himself, wanted to know if this one would be as cold-hearted and stone-faced as Tom. After all, this one had a great family tree as well- a descendant from Merlin! Albus had hoped to get this one into Hogwarts to raise the school's social standing, which had lowered the past five years.

The second surprise had been the muggle girl. Ms Adisto, or Adusto or something. She'd been a true Gryffindor, he could tell. Magic always seemed to make muggles uncomfortable, but he had sensed no such thing with her. She'd asked -no, _demanded- _answers. And she'd managed to give him the feeling he should answer, a feeling that made him decidedly uncomfortable, and then suddenly, completely unexpected, the normal roles were reversed, and Albus felt like a small child being chastised.

Thirdly, it was the little funny fact that Jane Emrys didn't seem to exist. There was no recording of her whatsoever in Wool's competur. He had been quite displeased to discover that the Gryffindor had been right. Only 37% of the names were known. Jane Emrys could be a grand total of hundred-thirty-eight children. If you only counted the ones that were of the right age, you were left with a total of twenty-three. Albus'd told the Matron they'd come by again some other time.

Then, they'd left. And he'd been tired from dealing with the muggle systems. He'd forgotten how slow and tiresome they were. As they'd walked down to the apparition point, the muggle girl appeared yet again.

As she passed them, she shot the both of them a grin, which looked more like a grimace then an actual smile. "Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape. If I may be so bold, could I ask you if you found who you were looking for?"

Albus couldn't help but smile at her choice of words. She seemed nervous, her teeth lightly grazing her lips, big blue-green eyes staring up at him like two identical pools filled with the world's secrets. Every and all resentment he'd held towards her dissolved as snow lying before a volcan As if she was afraid they'd be angry at her. Albus chanced a quick glance at Severus, who was all hard eyes and clenched fists. Severus didn't like wasting time. So well, maybe the girl did have a valid reason for being afraid. His smile got more kinder and his eyes twinkled harder, still not quite reaching the level of twinkle the girl before him had. Albus felt slightly irritated by this, but tried to not let it affect him. She was probably scared enough as it was with Severus glaring down at her. Poor dear.

He elbowed Severus softly, taking care to do it behind his suit-clad back, so the poor girl wouldn't notice. It seemed to work, as Severus' glare reduced to his usual scowl.

"No, I'm afraid I will have to admit that our visit proved futile. However, it did turn out to be a most interesting visit, with the most interesting hostess." He smiled once again, trying to sound as reassuring as he always did when a naughty student needed to come up to his office, but for some reason, he found it harder to sound as kind as he normally did.

She only seemed to get more nervous with his words, staring up at him with owlish eyes, unblinkingly.

Albus smiled and twinkled.

She continued the staring, and it was getting rather uncomfortable.

Then, she suddenly blinked hard, and seemed to come out of some kind of trance. Her mouth, which had been hanging open slightly, closed with a small SNAP, and a blush lighted up her face, as she seemed to realise where she was.

"Please, forgive me for my slanderous behaviour, professor. I'd excuse myself, saying I was caught up in the moment, but my manners were simply unacceptable."

She was babbling, he noticed amusedly. She didn't seem to notice, and continued on in a slightly desperate manner,

"Now, I'm very sorry to deprive you of my presence, but I'm afraid I will have to take my leave. Things to do, a world to save, you know, just the usual. I… yes, Have a nice day!"

Then she passed them and scurried away leaving a highly amused Albus and a scowling Severus in her wake.

Albus continued on as well, lightly chuckling to himself about the oddities of muggle manners. Suddenly, beside him, Severus stiffened and ceased his walking. Albus turned around slightly, so he could see his beloved spy, and gave the potions master a questioning glance. His beloved spy didn't normally overreact. Severus face contorted into an ugly mask of pure resentment, and the Slytherin turned around with a swish of his waistcoat, completely ignoring him as though he was some mere insect, instead of Supreme Mugwump. Albus was impressed. He couldn't even create that effect with his robes on.

Then, suddenly, his colleague took off running, after the anxious orphanage girl.

"You! Muggle girl! Get back here!" Albus had never quite heard his trusted ally sound so… out of control. He was livid, but Albus had encountered that more than once (or twice. Or thrice. Or… you get the point), but never so loose. There was always some kind of caged animosity in his voice, and in his behaviour. It was all gone now.

Dumbledore blinked after his confidant, feeling strangely out of place. He had absolutely no clue why Severus just charged after the poor girl, and was very curious, indeed. He hummed to himself and was quick to follow the furious potions master in his own pace, still highly amused with the fragile orphan.

_+_+_T_+_+_

Severus was livid. No, scratch that. He was vicious. He was missing his wand. His _wand_. That back-stabbing, sly little…

So now he was running -no, sprinting!- after the impendent muggle girl. He knew he was faster, and had actually figured he would catch up with her in no time, but it appeared he was wrong. A first, really. He was sprinting, but she was weaving through the crowd with an agility that was astounding. In stark contrast with him. He was crashing through the gigantic mass of warm bodies and leather bags. Still, he was gaining, but even though he was closer than he was before, he was barely able to keep an eye on her. It seemed as though there were people everywhere now. She was too tiny to stick out in the crowd. All these people did an excellent job of hiding her. Severus felt like cursing. He felt like whipping out hid wand and summoning the conniving little bitch right back. But he couldn't, because that absolutely-good-for-nothing muggle stole his wand. Stole it! She wasn't even a witch! He would be forever laughed upon if word got out that Severus Snape, spy extraordinaire and dueling champion of his age, was robbed of his wand by a mere muggle child! New rage fuelled his legs, and he burst through an elderly couple, earning two identical HEY's. He couldn't care less. He couldn't see her anymore. He just went onwards, faster, faster and _faster_, hoping he'd see her pop up further down the street. No such luck. Desperation slowly began clawing its way up to his throat, choking him slowly but surely. He continued onwards, slower now, looking around like some sort of maniac. His throat was dry. Parched. Searching. Pushing. Searching. Swallowing. She was here somewhere. She had to be. He was panting now, and realized with a detached feeling that no, she wasn't here. She couldn't be. There was nowhere to hide.

_+_+_T_+_+_

Mary Chesterfield slowly steered her four-year old brother away from the man standing in the middle of the street, holding up the busy Friday-afternoon traffic, making sure her brother didn't trip over anything. The man looked as though he'd escaped from an asylum or something like that. He was panting rough, uneven breaths, his eyes rabid, nose crooked. Fingers clenching into fists, knuckles white. Pallid face. Hard eyes looking around, sweeping the street with hole-boring intensity. Mary shrank away slightly when those eyes met her form. She was frozen in fear. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage, trying to break free. Mary twisted slightly, shielding her brother from those eyes that were reading her like an open book. He was fragile, and hers to protect. The eyes that had held her captive suddenly blinked, looked away, and continued on. Mary let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding, taking big gulps of fresh air. She wasn't so scared anymore. He wasn't livid, he was _desperate_. Still, she walked away as if the devil tailed her. She steered her brother to her front so he was in no way in the path of the man's eyes. She nodded, and smiled lightly at the old man who almost bumped into them. He apologized, but her mouth wasn't in the condition to chastise or apologize with spoken words. Not yet. She had to get away from the black insane. Her brother made to grab the man's beard. It was a long silvery one, a sign of wisdom instead of aged stupidity. She hauled her brother up, preventing him from grabbing the man's life work. She hugged him close and hurried home.

_+_+_T_+_+_

Albus snapped his fingers in front of Severus' slack face. His spy seemed to have be in some kind of stupor, and Albus couldn't help but notice the absence of a certain brown-haired muggle girl. The snap seemed to -_finally__-_ catch his spy's attention. Thank Merlin, the slack face looked downright scary. "Severus!" his voice was sharp, he realized, and he tried to tone it down.

"What do you _think _you are doing?" The potions master blinked, and finally seemed to fully comprehend that the Headmaster of Hogwarts was standing in front of him. "She stole it, Albus." His voice was barely a whisper, but as he was speaking, his face seemed to go back to his original sneer, and then converted to something ugly and black. Albus frowned, and looked around. People everywhere. He quickly took a black-clad arm and hurried down the first side-alley he saw, a dark and filthy street. It didn't matter.

"She stole my wand, Albus! My _wand!"_ A helpless laugh from pure embarrassment seemed to escape from his clenched lips. "What am I going to do, Albus. _I lost my wand!" _He started pacing. Albus blinked rapidly.

"The muggle girl… miss Adusto...stole you wand?" Disbelief coloured his voice. " Are you embarrassed you lost your wand, Severus? That's okay, Ollivander's open the whole school year and we can just…"

Suddenly Severus turned, faced him, and pointed a long, slender and pale finger at him. "_You!_ You can summon her!"

A moment of silence fell.

"Yes, Albus, I mean Ms Adiusto. Come on, hurry up! Don't just stand there!"

Albus raised his hand protectively against his pocket. "Ah, Severus, I don't think that…"

Severus snarled. "Albus, I don't care. Bring me to Ollivander's, I'll do it myself."

Albus hesistated, but complied. After all, if Severus did decide to go on with his ridiculous plan of summoning Miss Adusto - no, Adiusto- the Statue of Secrecy would catch up soon enough. He reached into his pocket.

Albus froze. Baffled eyes. Shaking hands. Blinking eyelids. Open mouth. No twinkle.

_+_+_T_+_+_

_So, it was a long, long while since my last chapter. I don't particulary like this one. Could you please senm me a suggestion on how to change it for the better?_

_Love! (It's thrirty degrees here! It's the warmest day since FOREVER!)_

_Sofie (AKA USoTN's)_

_P.S. I have my exams tomorrow. Wish me luck?_


	7. 7- Puzzling Maps and Lucky Charms

Chapter Seven- The Calm before the War

So, Rose had decided. It had taken a while, but she had had the time needed for such important decisions while walking to her room, since this place was _huge_. Her decision was pretty clear and pretty solid, and she was convinced of its sure-to-come succes. She hated cabs. So, from now on, she was going to invest in her own driver, and car. A limo with a fridge. And a plug connection for her laptop. And a… Well, she would decide on all the additional touches when she ordered one. The cabbie had taken a sharp left while racing to The Capital Hotel, and Rose's right arm had accidentally _touched_ the cab's interior. Rose couldn't help but shiver once again at the very thought, and rubbed her arm absent-mindedly yet again. She was going to take a bath. With lavender oil. Ugh.

All those thoughts were driven out of her mind, however, when the butler, who'd been walking in front of her, suddenly ceased his walking. She almost crashed into him, but managed to avoid that embarrassment by twisting to her left, thus narrowly avoiding a faceful of blue satin. The butler looked down on her, a sneer professionally hidden behind a blanc mask. She was quick to decide that she didn't like him.

"This is you room, Miss. Number 179. Do you have any additional questions?" His voice matched his face; blanc, devoid of the scorn which was hidden behind a colourless façade. He held out a copper key.

Rose gave him the most belittling smile she could muster under the circumstances. She wasn't feeling very superior after stealing like the most common thief, so it was more like a grimace, instead of her usual hautain sneer. She'd practised hard on that particular sneer, and was fairly proud of it. Carefully, she took the ancient-looking key, trying -and failing- to not touch his hands. They felt cold. A shiver crept down her spine, in spite of her attempts to stop it. She looked up in cold, belittling eyes. Was that amusement she spotted? Her eyes narrowed dangerously, invisible talons of Power flowing out of her threateningly. The butler took an obviously unplanned step back, and Rose smiled coldly.

"Thank you, Sir. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but it won't be necessary." With that, she stepped into the room as haughtily as she could, and slammed the door behind her, determination once again welling up in her stomach. She had more important things to do with her life. She shouldn't waste it on persons she did not like.

Excitement began taking determination's place, however, as she looked around the empty room. Alone, at last! She was going to discover this secret. There was nothing anyone could keep from Rose Adiusto. She grinned happily, and plopped down on the bed to the right, laying her suitcases to her right. She always took the bed on the right-hand to the door. It was her lucky charm, and it hadn't failed her yet. She sighed happily, trying to draw out the moment of complete, utter contentment. Maybe there was nothing of importance in that bag and in that case all giddiness would fade quickly, she was sure of it. But if the contents weren't of importance, why had they discovered everything was gone so fast? And why did they chase after her? No one likes to be spot running and waving like a lunatic. No, she decided, something important must have been in his bag. Have been, because now she had it. Rose licked her lips and bit her bottom one.

She slowly picked up the plastic bag. Oh damn, she was excited! Carefully, she turned the bag around so it was upside down, and out rolled an envelope, a green hat with purple dots and hearts, a leather pouch, a folder called "How to registrate your muggle orphan in five easy seconds", a pair of glasses, another pouch, a map of London, a photograph of what seemed like your everyday dark alley, and, of course, the two sticks of wood.

Rose didn't have to think for more than a second before she plucked the letter right off the bed. It was heavier than she'd expected. On the front was an address, written elegantly in green ink, with swirls and curls. Old school. _Jane Emrys, 45th Knightsbridge, Wool's Orphanage, The Loft._ Rose frowned slightly, brushing a stray curl out of her face. That was _her_ address. Had they been looking for her? Was her name Jane Emrys? She made herself more comfortable on the bed, shoving the other things gently aside as she laid down on the left side of the bed. Right hand bed, left hand side. Her lucky charm. Now this letter would _have_ to contain interesting information.

She opened the letter hurriedly, now endlessly curious about its contents. After all, it had been addressed _to her_. She lived in Wool's Orphanage, on the loft. Come to think of it, how did they figure that one out? Did they stalk her? Follow her? Maybe they hired an investigator. Maybe they asked Mrs Green where her room was before writing the address. Rose shook her head at her pillow. However silly it seemed, shaking her head always seemed to clear her mind. They couldn't have asked Mrs Green. She would have known (after all, nothing happened in Wool's without her knowing about it), and she remembered al too well how confused Mrs Green had been about the name Jane Emrys. She hadn't been informed beforehand. Rose frowned. This whole situation didn't make sense. If they knew where Jane Emrys lived, then surely they had a clue about _her looks_? And why didn't they just ask to see the loft's current occupants? A soft groan escaped Rose as soon as she realized she wouldn't be able to think of an answer anytime soon. It was like trying to see the whole picture while only having five of the hundred pieces. How she hated this.

Right. Back on track, Rose.

In the envelope was a folded sheet, tempting her with its solutions. She plucked the folded sheet out of the envelope. It felt odd against her fingertips, and the colour was slightly off as well, giving the paper an ancient appearance. She shakily pushed open the letter. A blue card of some sorts fell out, and with reflexes she didn't know she had, she caught it. She scanned the text. A train ticket. Peron 9 3/4, King's Cross. Was there a peron 9 3/4 on King's Cross?

Rose shrugged. It wasn't important right now, was it? She placed it beside the horrid green-and-purple hat, and focused on the letter. It was the same cursive, loopy handwriting, very difficult to read in its elegancy.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL_ _of __WITCHCRAFT_ _and __WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledor_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at_ _Hogwarts' school of witchcraft and wizardy._ _Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on_ _1 September_ _We await your owl by no later than_ _31 July_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

There was silence for a while. Rose sat as frozen.

Witchcraft.

Power.

School.

Ah.

_+_+_T_+_+_

Albus hadn't grasped it yet.

The Elderwand. The Unbeatable Wand. The Wand with the bloody trail.

Stolen… by a muggle child?

Albus couldn't grasp it.

In front of him, Severus was walking in circles, muttering profanities under his breath. Albus would have lectured him on his choice of words, hadn't he been in a slight shock at the moment. They were stuck. Lost. Albus didn't know his way around London. Severus didn't either. No wands meant no anything. Sure, Albus had a few wandless tricks on his sleeve, but nothing for _this_ situation. He had turned to look into hiss bag with maps, floo powder, and just all around daily stuff. Stolen. Empty, save for a few weights stuck on the bottom that were probably supposed to compensate for the weight loss. Pretty ingenious.

Albus blinked. A muggle child who stole the unbeatable wand? A muggle child who robbed Albus Dumbledore?

They needed a way home. They couldn't sent messages and couldn't apparate.

He hadn't noticeed anything odd. When did she do it? Maybe it had just been a passing-by pickpocketer.

They were hopelessly stuck. As far as he could remember, there weren't any magical communities closeby. Severus couldn't think of any either.

How? Why? She'd appeared as a nice, albeit somewhat too smart, girl. Were all the children in Wool's raised to be devil's spawn?

Severus ceased his useless walking, and instead opted to remain standing, outstretched hands leaning against the wall in front of him.

Had a muggle ever before stolen a wand? What happened when a muggle came in contact with a wand? Had that happened before?

And it wasn't just a normal wand. It was The Unbeatable Wand. If anyone tried to take it from the muggle girl with force, it was bound to protect itself and its Mistress, right? After all, the wand had previously been his, and he knew all too well how it worked. It had only reluctantly served him, because he hadn't won it fair and square. Although stealing it wasn't completely fair either, he had to aknowledge, that it would probably serve her better than him. If it would serve her at all. Maybe the whole stealing-gaining-wands didn't count when it concerned muggles. Would the wand aknowledge her as its new Mistress? Maybe it would. Maybe it wouldn't. Albus sighed. What a mess.

_+_+_T_+_+_

Every last thing clicked into place in her head. She may not have completed the puzzle yet, but she at least an idea of what the picture looked like.

The revelation was… puzzling. But a good kind of puzzling. As in, it made her happier. In the long run. She thought. Ugh. She hated these kind of situations.

Magic was Power. Power was Magic.

Jane Emrys was Rose Adiusto. Rose Adiusto was Jane Emrys. Jane Emrys was a Witch. And thus, Rose Adiusto was a Witch. She lived on the loft. In Wool's Orphanage.

The Magical Community was obviously wel-hidden, keeping away from the normal world. And those in the normal world with Powers, got selected out of it.

It fitted. Eerily so.

What had Vampire called her again?

Muggle girl.

Was that someone whose power was developing?

No, she scolded herself, he hadn't known about her Power, had he? They'd been searching for the Witch in Wool's. They didn't know how the Witch was named. Well, they did, but they only knew her original name, and not the name she had gained in the orphanage.

Ha, that sounded funny. The Witch in Wool's. The Witch in Wool's. The woolly Witch in witched Wool's.

Well, she just developed a tongue twister. How interesting.

So, back on track. Maybe the word muggle meant someone normal, without Powers? Or a child without Power?

This whole uncovering-secret-stuff wasn't working very well, was it? It only made more questions appear. Rose laid down the letter beside her, taking a moment to process everything, and clear her head. She wasn't getting any further by questioning stuff she could never find out with the information she had. It only served to give her headache and make everything slightly less logical. She took a deep breath.

There was silence.

Then she grinned up happily at the blue and golden swirls painted on the ceiling. A witch. She was a witch. There was a whole school full of witches. She wasn't alone. A whole school full. Starting September 1st. Teaching Magic. Teaching Power.

_Father Christmas chuckled, a dry, heavy sound that Rose did not like at all, while Vampire's glare hardened to frozen magma._

_"__I'm pr__ofessor Dumbledore, and I'm Headmaster of the school Professor Snape, here, works in. We've come to offer Jane Emrys a place in our school."_

Oh.

Oh shit.

Oh, holy fires of hell.

She'd robbed the headmaster of THE MAGIC SCHOOL.

No.

_Too much, too much, too much._

Her dead was going to be slow and painful, she realized. A feeling of panic began climbing its way up her throat. The room suddenly felt stuffy. She'd robbed a wizard. Two of them. A Headmaster. They were going to hunt her down. Of course they would, she would do the same thing in that situation. It wouldn't be abut _what_ she'd stolen, but more about the principle. No one got away with stealing from her.

Rose's frown deepened as she regarded the contents of Father Christmas' bag. She hadn't stolen anything really important. Of course, the letter was probably not supposed to be read by anyone without Power, but its value was close to nothing. The glasses could maybe prove valuable, but the pouches looked old and worn, and the sticks weren't really worth the trouble either. And chasing someone because they'd stolen a map was a bit over the top. But still, she would totally understand it if they tracked her down. So she needed to be gone by the time they did. They probably had all kinds of magic to track people down. God, what had she gotten herself into?

_Too much, too much, too much._

She abruptly sat up straight, and rubbed her eyes. She'd sensed the men's auras. They were lethal. They both possessed the detached quality of an executioner, men to whom killing wasn't distasteful, or even deliciously off-limits, but just a tedious regularity like breathing. She didn't want to die. She wasn't necessarily afraid of death and the afterlife, she just didn't want to be there when it happened. She strove to live forever, after all. So far, so good.

_Too much, to much, too much._

It was threatening to overwhelm her. Where the _hell_ was she supposed to go? Her breathing quickened, and she knew she was panicking, but she couldn't stop herself.

_Too much, too much, too much._

She needed to be quick, they had already realized she was the one that robbed them. After all, they'd come chasing after her, hadn't they? Her movements became rushed as she quickly spread out the map of London she'd stolen. From the Headmaster of the Magic school. She efficiently located her current location on the map, and held a finger on the little dot that resembled The Capital Hotel. Where to go, where to go?

A red dot on the map caught her eye. _St. Mungo's_, was written beneath it in tiny red writing. Farther to the south was another red dot. _Foreign Affairs and Sports Department._ Farther to the Northwest, two dots were almost joined. _Diagon Alley, _and _The Leaky Cauldron_ were so close they were almost touching. And above that, another one. _Department of Intoxicating Substances._ Another one, more to the West, read _Department of Defense._ Rose's eyes flitted over the map now, locating all red dots. _Administrative Registration Department. Animagus Registry. Head Entrance Ministry. Auror Office. Department of Mysteries. Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Department of Magical Transportation. Department of International Magical Cooperation. Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes._

It began to dawn upon Rose. A Ministry of Magic. God, how many Magical people were there? Maybe she was safer in a magical community. Maybe there were magical communities against Father Christmas. Surely he had enemies. He was a Headmaster, he was a figure of importance. In big societies, there were always opposing parties. They would protect her, right?

It was worth a shot. Because right now, she was alone, with almost no way to protect herself, while guilty of a crime. They knew what she looked like, they knew she had done it, they knew she'd fled. The only possible advantage was maybe the fact that they were probably unaware of her Power. How nice.

A clock chimed in the distance, reminding her of her limited time. She had no idea how long it would take them to catch up with her. And so, she jumped up, and began shoving all the things back into the bag. She was going to go… somewhere. She'd see. The most important thing, she'd learnt that from _Catch me if you can_, was to keep moving, so they couldn't pinpoint her. Bag ready, she left the room in a hurry.

Where to go, where to go?

She had no idea.

She'd see.

_+_+_T_+_+_

_So sorry! Life just kinda ran away with me. In school, I'm studying human atomy, physics, science, higher math, French, economical business stuff, and meds. Above all costs, I promised myself to maintain my friendships, meaning I have to talk to everyone at least once a day, and I give training at our local sports group five times (one time equals three hours) a week. And I'm doing an accelerated program English. I'm the first to do it in my school, so I'm kinda making it up as I go along. I'm planning on being Native Speaker English when I'm sixteen/seventeen, but I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to. Anyways, I'm doing _all _that at the same time. I have no idea how I'm hanging on. But, I'm still alive, and that's the important part._

Thank you _for the reviews! Seriously, now I at least know people are actually reading this stuff. And, bubblecloudz, you're completely right. I'm planning on rewriting Snape's pov when I have the time._

_BTW, My English Exams went pretty well, thanks for the Good Luck's!_

Suggestions? Tips? Tops? Always welcome!


	8. 8- Bribing Beggars and Driving Cabs

Chapter Eight- Limo's and Cribs

Rose was walking around, like she had been doing the last few hours. Her luggage wasn't heavy or much, but her arms were growing tired, her feet sore, and the night dark. She needed to find a place to sleep. And she needed to figure out a plan. She was just winging it at the moment, and look where that got her. Tired, still feeling filthy from that god awful cab, and with no clue what to do next. She really had no idea. She didn't want to stay somewhere for a longer period of time, but she wasn't going to be able to keep walking for much longer.

Rose spotted a shoe shop a bit further down the street, and slowly made her way over. She could rest there for a few minutes. She was no good tired.

A bell tinkled as she entered, but nobody paid her any mind amidst the chaos in the shop. It was rather busy. Rose had to look around for an empty seat, but found one (_thank the _gods), and plopped down.

She stretched her legs in front of her and closed her eyes, savouring the moment. Ah. Much better.

So, what to do?

Maybe she could pay a cabdriver to drive around the whole night while she slept?

As soon as the theory entered her head, it got thrown out again. It reminded her of her previous cab ride.

Or she could …

Just go to a hotel? Sleep on the stree- no never mind. The hotel idea sounded pretty amazing, but hadn't she walked away from The Capital Hotel precisely because she didn't want to stay in one place the whole time? Well, the fact that the butler there was a creepy cold bastard didn't help matters, but safe for that, yes, that was why she left. So she wasn't going back. And she wasn't going to another hotel either.

She retrieved the map from her jeans pocket once more, and studied it again. There was some kind of alley on it. A magical alley. An alley meant shops. Magical shops. With, you know, magical people. Who would help her. Maybe.

Too dangerous.

Rose rubbed her temples. There had to be a better alternative.

_Too much, too much, too much._

Gah.

_+_+_T_+_+_

"Mrs Green," Albus smiled winningly. He preferred a bed over a wet, cold street. "Something rather… unexpected came up, and I was wondering if it would be possible for us to.. uhum" He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed, which was absolutely ridiculous. "spend the night. Here, I mean. At Wool's."

The Matron seemed to squint at him, and Albus felt faintly uncomfortable. Was it possible to bribe muggles? Did their financial system allow it? He decided to just try, because the Matron didn't look like she was feeling particularly charitable today. "You will… um… be rewarded handsomely…?" He posed it more as a question than a persuading argument, and he winced internally. Being graceful in awkward situations had never been his forte. He only flourished when he knew he was right. Now, however, he very much felt like a homeless stray. He was slightly dirty because of the stress-sweat and the dust that lingered in the grimy streets, something he had never been in his entire life. Beside him, Severus stepped forwards, and Albus felt glad.

"Mrs Green," His voice was slick and snakelike, twisting the sentence in the air, closing in around the Matron. Severus had always been better in the art of persuading. Severus' aura of magic swept out of him, smothering the muggle. Magic always served to make muggles uncomfortable and slightly fearful. Well, maybe except for that Muggle thief. But they would get her, and soon she would be afraid of magic as well.

Albus recoiled at his sudden malicious train of thought. This was not like him. Luckily, Severus continued, and he allowed himself to get distracted by Severus' second talent. Persuading almost came as naturally as Potions to the young spy.

"As you know, we are rather well… endowed. I believe it would serve the both of us greatly if you allowed us to make use of your hospitality."

His magic pressed on.

_+_+_T_+_+_

The night was spend spent uncomfortably curled in a limo (for your information, Rose firmly believed a limo and a cab were not the same), riding around randomly through London, as per Rose's orders. Rose was familiar with Einstein's theory that stated 'time' was a relative thing. A bored or painful minute felt longer than an enjoyed minute. So, why was it that dawn seemed to follow midnight with almost indecent haste. Soon -far too soon in her opinion- it was morning, and Rose knew she needed to grab breakfast and switch drivers. Her belly was empty and her driver tired. Well, she couldn't blame himIt was the tactic she figured out while watching London fly by in a mush of dark-blue night and neon colours. She would spent the first few weeks- a month maybe?- in various limo's, to avoid being followed. Every stop would be at a station or airport or something of the likes, and every ride would be taken with a different identity, look, and limo-company.

So she ordered her bald driver to drive her to the Waterloo station. There was a McDonalds there, and if anyone ever questioned her current driver - his name was Oscar, she read on his nametag- about her whereabouts, he could safely answer that he had dropped her off at a station and hopefully the questioner would assume she had taken the train somewhere else. She'd read her fair share of detectives.

The limo stopped slowly, smoothly, in front of Waterloo station. Rose gave the driver a wad of bills. She paid him nearly the double, she knew, but she didn't care. She wasn't going to wait for change, her nerves were too jittery to allow her to stand still. She was hyper aware of the fact that she was moving too slowly, that every moment someone could pop up and swish her away to hide her somewhere deep down in the earth, where no one would find her anytime soon.

Rose shook her head exaggeratedly. She needed to stop thinking these thoughts. It was physically impossible for a human being to teleport. For a person to teleport, the teleporter's computer would have to pinpoint and analyse all of the 1028 atoms that make up the human body. That's more than a trillion trillion atoms. This wonder machine would then have to send the information to another location, where another amazing machine would reconstruct the person's body with exact precision.

How much room for error would there be? Forget her fears of splicing DNA with a housefly and ending up as a hybrid-fly, because if her molecules reconstituted even a millimeter out of place, she'd "arrive" at her destination with severe neurological or physiological damage.

And the definition of "arrive" would certainly be a point of contention. She wouldn't actually "arrive" anywhere. The whole process would work far more like a fax machine - a duplicate of the person would emerge at the receiving end, but what would happen to the original? What do YOU do with your originals after each fax?

It stands to reason, then, that every successful bio-digital teleportation would be an act of murder and creation. Each use would see the digitalization of your body's every detail, the creation of a genetic clone complete with all the travelers' memories, emotions, hopes and dreams.

The original copy would have to die; that is, unless we're cool with the notion of duplicating ourselves every time we need to travel cross-country and committing infanticide each time little Jimmy heads to school.

On top of that, human teleportation would be so slow, it'd be more like a death ray. To have a scanner that can record the position of every atom in the body to an accuracy of the order of the size of a hydrogen atom would require position accuracy of about 1010 meters. To get that accuracy over a distance of order 1 meter, this would require 30 decimal digits, which would be about 100 binary digits per atom. However, there would be a lot of redundancy in this data, so she should be optimistic and assume she could compress this down to 1 bit per atom, so she would still need approximately 1027 bits of data to just specify the positions of all the atoms in a human body. According to Wikipedia, the approximate data storage capacity of all the computers and storage devices in the world today is roughly 1 zettabyte = 1021 bytes = 1022 bits. Therefore, the data for the scan of one human would require at least 10,000 times the total storage of all the data stored on Earth right now.

Even if she- or Magic, for that matter- could store and transmit this data and then store it again at the destination, she would still have the problem of scanning the original body and constructing the final body. The scanning of the body would probably have to be destructive since she needed to essentially take the body apart to get to the inner atoms of the body. So she had better be able to do the scanning in a very short period of time or the person would die during the scanning operation and she would end up reconstructing a dead person at the destination. Finally, she shouldn't take a long time to construct the body at the destination since the early parts she constructed would die while she would still be finishing the construction of the later parts. It is safe to say that this method of teleportation is for all practical purposes impossible.

No, Rose scolded herself. She was just being silly. Even Magic couldn't do something like that. And she shouldn't treat it like she could maybe find a way around the fact that **teleportation was impossible**.

But still… She rather valued her life, and was not ready to take risks.

She just needed to eat something. She

Well, that, and she wanted breakfast. She couldn't think clearly when she was hungry or tired. The tired-part couldn't be helped, but the hunger-part could be resolved quickly.

_+_+_T_+_+_

Albus winced as he slowly sat up. The beds in Wool's were creaky, filthy, and made for 12 year old children. So, seeing that his night was spend uncomfortably curled up in his robes and a grubby bed meant for toddlers, Albus felt wholly justified for feeling particularly cranky. Severus, however, was downright unreasonably terrifying. He had never considered his colleague as a real possible threat. Of course he knew Severus was handy with a wand and a few words, and he had always recognized his talents, but Albus had always had the age advantage. As opposed to public opinion, magic didn't grow weaker with the years. It simply kept growing, but a wizard's grip on his magic could slip away if it wasn't practiced often enough. Therefore Albus had always been the stronger one. Now, however, he felt out of his debt, almost afraid.

His thoughts were interrupted by the slamming of the tolit (Teloit? Tolet? Toilut? Stupid muggle names.) door. Severus was on warpath. His spy came in his line of sight, and Albus managed to only wince. A stay in Wool's hadn't done Severus any good. His greasy hair was… well, greasier (if one could state that with a straight face) and sticking up in weird directions. His robes- that had turned back to robes a few hours after the Temporal Transfiguration- were wrinkled and there was a stain of a dark red… something on left hip. Albus tried not to think about the unknown substance, but a shiver went down his spine anyway. He could imagine what it was. But even though that stain was one of the worst stains he had seen in his life, Albus still kept his eyes firmly fixed upon it, to avoid the worse alternative. Looking at Severus' expression. Livid. Absolutely, completely livid.

Albus finally managed to avert his gaze, and opted to look at his own navy blue robes. They suffered greatly as well, but there were no stains of god-knows-what. Thank Merlin.

"Albus." A grating voice, fitting Severus' appearance. "We call an House-Elf and get it to find the" A pause. "_girl_." The word was spat, hatred wringing the word into absolute revulsion.

Silence reigned while Albus processed the first half of the sentence. It was so easy. So simple. An House-Elf. _Why didn't he think of that before?_

"Tabby!"

_+_+_T_+_+_

Penelope nudged Chloe, a worried frown on her face. "Hey, do you know where Rose went?"

The brown-haired girl agitatedly, her long hair flying everywhere. "No! I get nothing. She's not coming home for several more days, but that's my limit. She was in a car, and there will be something weird in her future soon, and then it's blank. Like she found some way to counteract me. But it's so sudden. It's like she was forced." She shook her head again. "You know I'm no good with specific timed predictions. I think there's about 35 prercent chance she won't be coming home before next month. I think." She threw her hands in the air and turned around, storming down the hallway to her room in a typical teenage-girl fashion. The door slammed shut with an audible 'BANG', and a mufled "I can't see, okay!?' was heard.

Penelope smiled sadly at Otto, who had been walking beside them. "We all deal in different ways."

Otto smiled back sadly, and they made to walk on when heart-wrenching sobs were heard. Penelope rolled her eyes at Otto's stricken expression.

"It's just the hormones. Why don't you get some chocolate and sweets, while I go calm her down, okay?"

Otto's face was still set in a concerned frown, but he shrugged compliantly. "I will never understand you girls, you know that, right?"

Penelope's bell-like laugh tinkled down the hallway, as she and Otto parted.

_+_+_T_+_+_

PLEASE READ THIS

_I thought I should just get one chapter in before my vacation starts. I'm going to London with some of my friends, and I'm really looking forward to it! I promised myself to not do anything for anything at all during my stay there, so I can just enjoy London, so I will be completely gone for eight days. Sorry!_

_After that my vacation will start, so you can expect a lot of updates. Maybe I'll squeeze one more in before vacation starts…. Mmm, I'll see. I think I'll manage that._

_And, how did you like the smart part about teleportation? I'm trying to show her memory here, d'you think it's working?_

_Any suggestions?_

_THANKS FOR READING!_

_Love, _

_Sofie_

And _tiggerpal07,_ there are indeed still some goodies left in Dumbledore's bag (in the pouches), but it's nothin

g important. It's not going to be important in the future either, but your question actually gave me an idea for the story plot, so thank you!


	9. 9- Slow Starbucks and Scary Tubes

9- Slow Starbucks and Scary Tubes

Rose felt cold. It was scary, this being on the run. She couldn't walk, couldn't sit, couldn't turn, without seeing a glimpse of a beard, catching a glance of greasy hair or imagining long, bony fingers stretching out towards her from behind her. A shiver fought its way down her rigid spine, and Rose did a quick 360. No twinkling eyes, nor any glittering ones. Normal people, just walking to their normal tube in your everyday mood. Rose took a deep, shuddering breath. There was no reason whatsoever to get so worked up. She should just discard the fact that she stole from a creepy Headmaster of a creepy-secret school with an even creepier professor. Maybe she was completely overreacting and didn't they have any way of tracking her down. Even though they had Power. Surely even Power had its limitations? They hadn't been able to catch her when they knew she was close-by and had had a fresh memory of her clothes, her hair, her looks and the sound of her voice.

_+_+_T_+_+_

Albus stared. It was a long, hard stare that demanded honest, heart-to-heart answers. It had helped him a lot during his days as a teacher. Back in those days, when he was young and vibrant, with time and laughs to spare. How could so much change in only fifty years? He felt like an old man now. He hadn't smiled genuinely in a long, long time. With _him_ **still** not completely vanquished, there was no reason to smile either. Voldemort never failed to remind Albus of what he had lost, and what was to come. Lately he couldn't even enjoy a hearty breakfast with his staff, as used to be his custom. He just couldn't find the time between his duties as Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock of the Wizardgamot, and unofficial advisor of the Ministry. Godric's beard, he hadn't even found the time to simply eat! His house-elf, Tabby, forced sleep upon him for at least seven hours a day, which made his days only seventeen hours long. He used three different time-turners (they couldn't overlap themselves)-of which Tabby _thankfully_ wasn't aware, andso his days were 89 hours long.

And it still wasn't enough.

As soon as he'd come home, he'd taken his spare-wand, and turned back twenty hours to try and catch the Muggle girl. Furtively. He couldn't change the past he remembered, and therefore couldn't cross paths with his past-self, and couldn't catch her while she'd been running away, hard as he tried. He couldn't snatch her away before she met his past-self on the street again, because that would interfere with the past, and he could only chase after her after past-Severus had lost her. After all, Severus had had the girl in his sight for a long time, and if she'd been snatched away, Severus would surely have spotted it, and would have told Albus' past-self, which once again would have interfered with the past. Severus couldn't even see the time-turned Albus, because that would have raised questions as well. Albus could only check the street once more when Severus had already lost her, but that was pretty much hopeless. The street was bustling with people, and Albus knew he couldn't use any magic to pinpoint her. The Statue of Secrecy and the Department of Improper Use of Magic would be all over him, and he would be questioned under Veritaserum. The chance that he would flap out something about the illegally-made time-turners he'd stolen was simply too big to risk. He would lose his status as Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump, and the Ministry would probably ban him from his position as Headmaster of Hogwarts as well.

The last time he'd been so stressed was more than fifty years ago.

_+_+_T_+_+_

Rose got in the queue for Starbucks and impatiently tapped her foot when she saw the length of the queue and the slowness of the staff. If there were ever moments that tempted her to use magic, it were moments like these. But her fear always managed to quickly overwhelm that tempting quickly. What if they could pinpoint her when she used Magic? No, she'd only risk using her magic again when she knew a bit more about this Magic-Power-teaching world.

She finally got her cupcake and hot chocolate, and ate them silently in a little corner while she scrolled through Google pages about limos with plugins. The boredom she was feeling made sure lots and lots of tedious paperwork were getting done, but her laptop's battery was slowly but surely dying.

So now she needed a limo with a plugin. Sadly, there were only a few Google pages as a result to her search words, which, in itself, was very peculiar. What kind of search words only gave you three Google pages?

_+_+_T_+_+_

"You mean to tell me," Albus stated slowly, still staring "that you have not managed to locate my wand?"

Tabby's ears drooped lower, almost touching the ground, as she shuffled her feet and wrung her hands into her towel. She positively grovelled.

"No, master sir Albus." She squeaked, as her hands paused their assualt on her towel for a second. "Tabby has manages to find your suiscase, master sir Albus, but Tabby has not manages to find the lady thief or the wand of kind master sir Albus, sir."

There was a moment of utter silence, as even the birds halted their normal chirping. Then Tabby threw herself down at Albus' feet, sobbing and crawling.

"Tabby is sorry master sir Albus. So s-s-_sorry_. Tabby will… will… Tabby will punish Tabby...please forgive Tabby kind master sir old Albus!"

Tabby's form was trembling, her sobs now loud and intrusive, and Albus nervously looked to the window. Good, he'd closed it this morning.

Then he looked down at his house-elf. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, and allowed himself one, tiny tranquil moment.

"Now, Tabby," His smile was indulgent and almost felt genuine, " There's no need to dirty your towel. I'm sure either of us will think of something."

_+_+_T_+_+_

Rose carefully held the cheap phone in her hand. She was doubting. She thought she made it as untraceable as possible in current circumstances, but thinking was not knowing.

She'd extracted money from an ATM, 300 pounds in the form of 3 notes of 100 pounds. Then she'd gone to three different, random supermarket. She'd bought some useless stuff. A box of strawberries, an apple, and some cookies. She'd bought a cheap mobile phone and a SIM-card in a tiny phone shop with the change from the supermarkets. It should be as untraceable as she could manage right now.

But she was doubting, and that meant something wasn't quite right yet. She'd always trusted her gut. There was no reason to endanger Chloe, Otto or Penny. Surely they were being monitored or questioned? They were the first step to her whereabouts. They could probably have told the Powerpeople that she'd be heading for The Capital Hotel at first, because that was her favourite amongst all the hotels in London. Good thing that she left there immediately.

It wasn't that she didn't trust her allies to try and not rat her out, but she knew the things Power was capable of as no one else did.

No. She wouldn't call them. For her sake and for theirs.

_+_+_T_+_+_

It had taken her a few more hours before she became worried about her allies. She hadn't given their position any thought. Those men were dangerous, she knew. She'd felt them. Would they go as far as hurting her allies? Instinctively, she knew Father Christmas wouldn't. But he would assign someone to do it for him without a second thought. And Vampire wouldn't mind doing it himself.

She shivered, and glanced at the mobile phone in her hand. Would it be that dangerous? Surely one call couldn't do much harm?

Sod it.

Her thumb began typing in the numbers of Penelope's number. She was the most responsible, and the most logical.

Her thumb faltered for a moment, but Rose let out a sigh and dialled anyway.

It took Penelope only a few seconds to answer, something that honestly impressed Rose a bit.

"Hello. This is Penelope speaking. Whom am I talking to?"

Rose smiled slightly. Penelope's voice hadn't changed an iota, even though last week felt like last year.

"Hi Pen, this is Rose. Hey, I was just wondering, are you guys okay there? I left rather abruptly, I didn't even say goodbye."

A moment of silence.

Then, Rose could hear Penelope telling the others that 'Rose called!', and felt slightly guilty.

There was a moment in which everyone seemed to talk at the same time on the other end of the line, and then Otto's voice suddenly overpowered them all loud and clear.

"Where are you, Rose? We've been worried sick!"

"Yes, you could have told us you were leaving!"

"I can't even see you, Rose. What have you done?"

Rose laughed, she couldn't help it. "I'm fine, guys. I'm closeby, and next time I'll give you all a nice wet, slobbery kiss before I leave. Especially you, Otto."

She was met with laughter, and a big grin fought its way onto her face.

"I am sorry, though. Something rather… unexpected came up, and I have to take care of it. I won't be home for probably… a month? Chloe, you tell me, I have no clue. I'm staying away for as long as it takes, and I guess that's about a month."

Someone let out a long, suffering sigh, and she knew it was Penny. "Why must you torture me so, oh mighty one?! How will I possibly survive amongst these… peasants!"

Rose laughed again, a free, unbound laugh that came all the way from her belly. "You will survive, Penny. Who else would help them with their homework?"

"Hey, I'm getting my homework done just _fine! _"Chloe sounded indignant, and for good reason; she would almost be able to compete with Penny, were it not for her inability to focus.

"Of course you are, dear. I'm just talking about _him_. Come one, even you gotta admit no one can even dignify him with the name of a stuffed shirt! He's simply a hole in the ai-OW! OTTO! That hurt!"

"You deserved it!"

"Did not."

"Did."

"Didn't!"

The amused voice of Chloe cut through their quibbling, informing Chloe that "We've got to go to dinner, or Mrs Green will have our heads! Will you call again, Rose?"

"I'll see," Rose answered quietly, her good mood gone as soon as it had appeared. She wasn't going to call again. One time was enough. It was clear they were fine, and that was all she'd wanted to know. "See you, guys!"

"Bye Rose!"

"'Till you grace our humble home again!"

"Hurry up, will you! Mrs Green's getting ready to eat _everything_ herself if you don't come down now!"

Rose recognized the voice as William's, one of the orphanages newest kids. His parents had died in the terror that was 9/11, and his previous orphanage had shut down due to the lack of funds. He was a nice, albeit a bit stupid and chubby. Otto seemed to like him, and the two were roommates.

So they were eating sweets when she called. If William came to get them, they were in Otto's room. They were only in Otto's room when they either wanted to eat from his seemingly unending collection of sweets and cookies or they wanted to wake him because he slept through his alarm once again.

"Don't snack too much, will you?"

Laughter met her, and Rose smiled as she ended her call.

She rested her head against the cold window of the cab, and stared outside with prickling eyes.

Stupid Father Christmas.

Stupid Vampire.

Stupid her.

Stupid Jane Emrys.

Stupid suitcase.

…

With a gasp she bolted upright. She'd never finished looking through the contents of Father Christmas' suitcase! How could she forget? Rose silently admonished herself as her hands nimbly opened her bag and looked for the white plastic of the bag with Father Christmas' stuff.

She found it quickly and chucked her weekend bag aside. She opened the bag and glimpsed inside. The two pouches glanced back, and she got them out, smiling grimly. Hopefully it was something that could cheer her up.

_+_+_T_+_+_

_I'm sorry. I promised I'd update more in the holidays, and so far, I haven't fulfilled that promise, but..._

_You may have heard of the plane crash that happened to a plane that had departed from Amsterdam. Familymembers of my best friend were in that plane. I havent' been in the mood to write. Sorry._

_Thanks for reading this chapter. It was all I'd already done, and I just thought I'd put it up_

_Sofie_


End file.
